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Book . K 5 ? 4 5 

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JACK 




















ADORABLE 


Jack 

BY 

M. de l. Kennedy 

Author of: Willie Frank of Stedley 

w 


FIRST EDITION 


Copyright by 

JOHN W. WINTERICH 

COLUMBUS, OHIO: CLEVELAND, OHIO: 

59 East Main Street 2018 East 14th Street 

1922 





LIST OF 

Popular Catholic Story Books 


Cobra Island. $1.15 

Divine Story .$1.00 

Lisbeth.$1.25 

Mostly Mary . $1.00 

One Hundred Tales.$1.25 

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Postage 10c extra 


©Cl. AG 7 7 417 

JUL -5 1922 


Vv 6 | 










CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Jack Has Callers . 7 

II. The Secret Slide. 16 

III. Under the Shining Stars. 24 

IV. Off To Visit “Young Gil”. 31 

V. Little Miss Detective. 40 

VI. Around the Camp Fire. 49 

VII. Kid Loses Jim. 58 

VIII. Raven and Skylark. 67 

IX. At Jasmine Knoll . 78 

X. “Hello Grandy-Dad !”. 88 

XL Cracker Jack. 98 

XII. A Stolen Visit.108 

XIII. Down Near the Relic House.119 

XIV. Mostly Nonsense.129 

XV. Red Lights.137 

XVI. S. O. S.150 

XVII. Jack’s Peril.161 

XVIII. Who Is Who?.173 

XIX. At Grandy-dad’s.185 

XX. Opening the Secret Slide.194 

XXI. Good-bye.202 






























































































































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JACK 


CHAPTER I. 

JACK HAS CALLERS 

“Adorable one, come hither and greet thy mother. 
Her heart will palpitate at sight of thee. That I know,” 
cried excitable Annette, the old French governess, as 
she nervously ushered visitors into a shabby school¬ 
room dusky with twilight shadows. 

“Adorable,” hidden away in as safe a shelter as Iris’ 
active brain had been able to suggest at such short 
notice, grinned roguishly and gave a twitch at the 
stiff collar that was choking him relentlessly. 

“Palpitation, eh? Is he as bad as that, Annette?” 
chaffed a man's pleasant voice. 

“Be still, Hilary,” came next in the militant tone of 
a woman who permitted no levity in her presence, then, 
sharply to Annette: 

“Well, well, where is he? Get the child—we have 
no time for nonsense. Isn't he here ? Then why trail 
us up all those stairs ?” 

Creak! 

“Adorable” knew, even though unable to see from 
his hiding place, that the pompous lady had seated her¬ 
self on the “shakiest” chair of all the shaky lot of 
which the school-room boasted. And, well “Adorable” 
knew what had made them so insecure. Throughout 
all the years of his restless, little life those chairs had 
figured in his sports. He had put them through the 
ravages, of leap-frog. He had ridden them as chargers 

7 


8 


JACK 


when playing cavalry officer, and he had balanced on 
their backs as Signor Smart Alec, the ‘‘greatest living 
acrobat America has ever known.” 

“Adorable” covered his mouth with one grimy hand 
to keep back an explosive chuckle. That the lady in 
the creaky chair would indeed have had “palpitation” 
.at the sight of him, he hadn't the slightest doubt. 

“Glad I hid,” he thought, gleefully. “She's worse 
than I thought.” 

Annette's uneasiness became pitiful. 

“I really know not, my Friends, where he has gone. 
Little Monsieur Jean is what I might say mischievous, 
never bad however, non-non. He has himself con¬ 
cealed. I know not where.” 

Exasperation on the militant lady's part gave 
naughty “Adorable” much satisfaction, but the man 
good-naturedly laughed and another voice, unheard up 
to this point by the truant, began to whisper something 
which must have been interesting enough to appease 
the injured party's feelings, for quite unexpectedly An¬ 
nette and the visitors departed, closing the door de¬ 
cisively behind them. 

“Adorable” waited with small show of patience a 
second or two, then wriggled out of his hiding place 
and shook himself like a shaggy, little dog. 

He was nine, had fiery red hair, many freckles and 
a pair of brown eyes as twinkling as though two stars 
had been set in the midst of his dfoll small face. 

“Yippetty!—That's over,” he gurgled joyfully as he 
gave a tug at his collar, and also a side leap over one 
of the long-suffering chairs. 

“Whoop, what's that? Who are you?” he demanded 
with all his small boy heart in his throat, for the school¬ 
room was very dark now. “Adorable” had thought no 
person present and to stumble up against something 
soft and human, under such circumstances, is apt to be 
a bit nerve-racking. 


JACK HAS CALLERS 


9 


A low, happy laugh was his answer and in spite of 
his squirms, his protests, and I regret to say kicks, 
he was gathered into a pair of tender arms and a 
merry voice murmured: 

“Let me see if he is really Adorable or Just Mother’s 
naughty, noisy, beloved little son?” 

And would you believe it, the rebel ceased to strug¬ 
gle and listened in astonishment. An astonishment so 
great that he had not even time to resent a kiss with 
a tear in it which, laughably enough, descended right 
on top of his smudgy, little turned-up nose. 

“Mothers is nice after all,” was his ungrammatical 
but very wise conclusion. And now do you ask, why 
had Adorable never met his mother before ? 

Well—that is a mystery that I have not time just 
at present to explain for the door of the old school¬ 
room has opened again very cautiously, and from the 
shadows in a hoarse whisper comes the signal:— 

“They’ve gone, Jack, All of ’em. Come on out. 
Coast’s clear!” 

Then the room echoed with a chuckle of unmistak¬ 
able glee. 

“Hi, Rob!” saluted Adorable eagerly. 

“Where-you-at ?” demanded the stranger. 

“Here,” mumbled Jack, but though evidently anxious 
for the company of his chum, not making any attempt 
to release himself from the fetters which held him 
captive. 

“Yes, dear. Come over near Jack and let him intro¬ 
duce us. Who is Rob, my darling ? Your favorite pal ?” 

But Rob at the sound of an unexpected voice called 
out sharply: 

“Who’s here? ’Sides you, I mean, Jack?” 

“My Mother,” announced Adorable calmly just as 
though having such a cherished relation pop up quite 
suddenly in one’s life was nothing at all extraordinary. 

“How did she get in ?” went on Rob, belligerently. 


10 


JACK 


“Walked,” answered Jack tersely. 

“Which of you boys can find Aladdin’s lamp for me 
and set the lights of this place flashing ?” the lady ques¬ 
tioned. 

“I can,” shouted Rob, off guard in a moment. 

“No, let me, I say. Let me,” screamed Jack hurling 
himself across the room with small consideration of 
life or limb. 

A bump and a thud as of two small bodies colliding 
and falling in a heap was the next excitement, but 
Adorable’s mother only laughed again tenderly, as well 
as amusedly. 

“No bones broken I am sure,” she teased merrily. 
“Now up and on for the switch, brave knights, for a 
lady waits.” 

“Puff,” panted Rob. 

“Uh-uh,” grunted Jack. 

Hands, feet and heads seemed to clash indefinitely 
and then with a jerk, on went the lights and all parties 
stood face to face in the battered, dingy room. 

A prodigious snore at this moment caused the visitor 
to start hastily to her feet. Both children burst out 
laughing. 

Between gasps Adorable explained: 

“Don’t be scart. It’s only old Mr. Wickets.” 

“Mr. Wickets?” surprisedly. “Not asleep in your 
school-room, sonny dear?” There was just a touch of 
horror for a second in her gay voice, but extra tender¬ 
ness too, for she liked to think that this harem-scarem 
little son of hers had a tender heart for old and un¬ 
fortunate people. 

More laughter. Shrieks of it this time. In fact, 
Rob collapsed in his glee upon a specimen case contain¬ 
ing many different kinds of bugs and beetles. 

“Here he is, see him!” chuckled Adorable from the 
hearth-rug, endeavoring with all his strength to get 
a wheezy, old spaniel to his uncertain feet. 


JACK HAS CALLERS 


11 


“Come on over, Wickets, and meet Mother. Come 
on, I say,” and the boy gave the dog’s collar an extra 
tug. 

Most unwillingly Mr. Wickets waddled across the 
intervening space between himself and the company. 
Then he sat down very laboriously and made a sort of 
blind state at offering a lazy paw. 

Now, Adorable’s mother liked dogs and she pene¬ 
trated Mr. Wickets’ dull intelligence and made him feel 
it. 

“Good Wickets,” she said cheerily. “Shake hands, 
sir? Indeed, I will. Nice, nice old fellow.” 

The pats administered by her soft hands, the notes 
of her sympathetic voice were all soothing. Mr. Wick¬ 
ets gave a low whine of appreciation and then dumped 
himself down at her feet and prepared straightway for 
another nap. 

“He’s awful lazy,” announced Jack. “I guess it’s 
’cause he’s so old.” 

Rap-rap-rap-a-tat came a summons from the hall. 
The door of the room opened on a crack and a young, 
eager voice called: 

“Mumpie, please may I come now ? Please!” 

A rapid change swept over both boys’ faces. 

“It’s a girl,” growled Rob. 

Jack dropped down on hands and knees and scuttled 
off under the table. 

“Yes, come dear, but I am sorry to say you seem a 
very unwelcome guest,” answered the lady quietly. 

Instantly, into the room danced on the tips of her 
toes a delightfully jolly-looking little girl of about 
eleven years of age. 

“Oh, Mumpie, where is he? Where’s Jack?” she de¬ 
manded in a most crest-fallen tone of voice, for at her 
entrance Rob, too, had made a hasty disappearance and 
only Mrs. Wayne and Mr. Wickets held the floor as re¬ 
ception committee. 


12 


JACK 


As the unwelcome guest stood uncertainly in the 
centre of the room, disappointment plainly written on 
every feature, Mrs. Wayne rose and evidently address¬ 
ing vague shadows in the far off corners of the room 
said pleasantly: 

“This little girl is Jacqueline, Jack's sister. She is 
going to make friends with you by her own efforts.” 
Then to the little girl—“Two boys are hidden some¬ 
where in this room. Find them dear, and then discover 
if you can which one is your brother. I must leave you 
all for a while, but when you hear a bell ring come to 
me for I will need you.” 

While speaking Mrs. Wayne moved across the room 
to the door. 

“Goody!” exclaimed Jacqueline clapping her hands 
merrily. “I'll find them, Mumpie. Ready or not they 
must be caught.” 

As Mrs. Wayne hurried along the shadowy hall out¬ 
side the school-room she suddenly found herself way¬ 
laid by a small highway man. The sturdy arms went 
around her convulsively and in a choky whisper Ador¬ 
able's voice pleaded: 

“Don't go away—please, please don't. I thought you 
came to stay. Oh, don't go. Don't.” 

His mother's heart gave one wild, glad leap almost 
up into her throat as she confided to him afterwards, 
but she seemed quite calm as she laid tender hands on 
his shoulders and asked him very simply: 

“Do you want me to stay so very much, little son ?" 

“Yes, yes,” he nodded, gripping her more firmly with 
small arms that became almost like iron bands. 
“Didn’t want you 'tall first but I do now. Will you stay, 
huh ? Please ?” His brown eyes were as soft, as wor¬ 
shipful, as appealing, as some baby angel's. 

Mrs. Wayne with a sweet, low, happy laugh caught 
him up in her arms and hugged him tenderly. She 


JACK HAS CALLERS 


13 


kissed him too, an alarming number of times for a 
boy of Jack’s fixed ideas on that subject to submit to 
so quietly. And then, she said swiftly: 

“Come with me, Sonny. Hurry dear.” 

Down the stair-case they went together, her soft 
hand still holding his in tight, warm clasp. In the 
spacious lower hall a respectful man-servant ap¬ 
proached them. 

“Madam, Sir Gilbert said to conduct you to the draw¬ 
ing-room. They all await you there. This way if you 
please.” 

Side by side, Mother and son followed in the wake 
of the grave-faced butler. Once she looked down at 
Adorable. His droll, freckled face bore traces of candy, 
of jelly, of dust and other things equally detrimental to 
beauty of countenance but “The light that never was on 
sea or land” was in his brown eyes and a smile of abso¬ 
lute joy curled up the corners of his roguish mouth. 

Just before they entered the room, the door of which 
was then opened by the butler and from which came 
the sound of many voices evidently engaged in heated 
argument, Mrs. Wayne stooped over Adorable and asked 
him anxiously: 

“You meant it didn’t you, my little son? You want 
me with you dear, don’t you?” 

“Yep,” whispered back Jack decidedly. 

Something was in the air around the child that filled 
him with strange excitement, but excitement of a sup¬ 
pressed sort. Jack was not usually so subdued. 

“Mrs. Wayne and Master Jack,” called out the but¬ 
ler in stentorian notes, and then Jack walked into the 
spacious room which hitherto he had visited only by 
stealth. He knew some of the people present quite 
well, one or two of them he liked in off hand, boy fash¬ 
ion, for instance, Annette his governess and Mr. Bob 


14 


JACK 


his guardian’s clerk. Even at this solemn moment Mr. 
Bob winked at him according to pal code, and then 
buried his head instantly in his work once more. Mr. 
Bob was seated at a large table writing busily. 

Sir Gilbert, Adorable’s guardian, rose as Mrs. Wayne 
and the boy entered. He was a tall, old gentleman 
with sharp, dark eyes and a stern face. 

“I was just about to send for you, Mrs. Wayne,” he 
said gravely. “I am sorry you have seen the boy for 
I cannot give him up to you and the law supports my 
claim.” 

“Sir Gilbert,” Adorable’s mother answered gently 
but firmly—“My claim is in the hands of a higher law 
and that law has made my child love me in spite of 
separation, in spite of environment—Jack,” she said, 
laying her hand on the little boy’s head—“Will you 
please tell this gentleman whether or not you want to 
stay here any longer after I have gone away again?” 

“No, No,” shouted Jack hurling his arms around her 
once more. “I’ll go with you. I like you. I like you 
fine.” 

“I think that settles the matter, Sir,” said the young 
man whose pleasant voice Adorable had heard in the 
school-room earlier that afternoon. 

“We hold every proof that Jack is our son. By every 
right we can claim him. Let it be without unpleasant¬ 
ness, for truly you must not think we under-rate all you 
have done for our child.” 

“Hurrah! Hurrah, Mumpie, I found Rob. He was 
hidden in a big old clock.” 

Like a whirlwind composed of blue serge and white 
middy, into this sombre consulting room whizzed un¬ 
expectedly Jacqueline, the madcap. 

“Mumpie, is this Jack? Oh, Jack, I’m so glad to see 
you. Hello!” And this radiant, very-much alive, little 


JACK HAS CALLEKS 


15 


maid seized one of Jack’s hands and pumped it up and 
down as vigorously as another boy might have done. 
But strangely enough, in spite of all her life and merri¬ 
ment Jacqueline was gentle and her voice, even at its 
highest lilt, was sweet as a silver bell. 

“Hello!” answered Jack, smiling at her good- 
humoredly. “Who are you ?” 


CHAPTER II. 


THE SECRET SLIDE 

“Pm Jacqueline, your sister,” answered the little 
girl with a joy so absolute that only a boor could have 
repulsed her. 

Adorable’s manners often left much to be desired, 
but he had a heart that instinctively seemed to beat 
true when the really fine, sweet things of life were in 
question. So he gave back to Jacqueline a smile quite 
as radiant as her own. 

His hands were now safe in the pockets of his knick¬ 
ers, and his feet were restlessly rumpling up the costly 
rug on which he stood. With one of the cheery chuckles 
that made him such a likable small boy he said: 

“Whiz! I have heaps of folks. Ain’t I? I’m glad, 
You bet!” 

“Ain’t I? You bet?”—Jack’s words were repeated 
after him by the most dismal voice that can be imag¬ 
ined. 

The boy whirled around puzzled by the echo to see 
a stout, cross-looking lady with her eyes fixed accusing¬ 
ly upon him. Her black gloved hands were raised 
upright in horror. 

“Ain’t I?—You bet,” she moaned once more. “Oh, 
that I should live to see a Wayne so ignorant, so vul¬ 
gar !” 

She flounced around on her chair and shook an awe¬ 
inspiring finger at the child. The chair at that mo¬ 
ment creaked and instantly Jack remembered. This 
was, undoubtedly, the warlike person who had Annette 
in the school-room three quarters of an hour ago. 

16 


THE SECRET SLIDE 


17 


Adorable heartily wished himself back in his hiding 
place as with a rattle of jet beads and bangles she 
began to address him: 

“It is time we found you, John Wayne. It is time 
indeed that you were rescued from the guardianship 
of a man who has paid no more attention than this to 
the cultural training of a child in whose veins flows 
the best blood of New England.” 

“Jack, my boy, please step outside.” It was the 
curt voice of old Sir Gilbert that rang through the 
stately room now. “Little Miss Jacqueline, may I 
ask you to go, too?” he continued, this time softening 
his tone and walking majestically across the interven¬ 
ing space to open the door for the little girl with an old 
time courtly grace. 

“Oh, goody-goody! Come on, Jack. Thank you, Sir 
Gilbert. Aren't you just dear? It is so awfully stuffy 
and, and miserable-like here, isn't it ? Don't you think 
so?” And smiling up at the old gentleman merrily, 
Jacqueline whirled out of the room every bit as gayly as 
she had entered, literally dragging Jack after her. 

But “drag” is not the correct word to use for any 
length of time. For no sooner did Adorable realize 
that he was free, was really beyond those gloomy 
portals wherein argument and censure seemed to dwell, 
than wings lent themselves to his feet. Rollickingly 
he took the lead calling out, as he sped down the long 
hall: 

“Come on. I'll show you the place. Want to see 
my rabbits ? Come on.” 

“Huh! Don't need to walk all over me, Jack Gil¬ 
bert,” sputtered an outraged boyish voice from the 
gloom of a dusky corner. 

“Ha, Ha!” chuckled Adorable. “Whatcher doing 
there, Rob ?” He stooped down to survey his prostrate 
chum. 

“Oh, are you hurt, little boy?” exclaimed friendly 


18 


JACK 


Jacqueline. Then recognizing him suddenly, she added, 
“Did you fall down the stairs? You were going home 
when I left you, that time I ran down to find Jack. 
Weren’t you?” 

“Yes, I was,” grumbled Rob, “but I tumbled over 
something and my foot’s caught. Ouch! Don’t, Jack! 
That hurts.” 

Poor Rob was indeed in a trap. His right foot was 
apparently wedged tightly into a vise-like crack in the 
centre of one of the old, oak stairs. The rest of his 
sturdy, little body rested partly on the stair-case and 
partly on the hall floor. That is why hurrying Jack 
had nearly trampled upon him. 

“Help me push this board down, will you?” said Jack 
to his sister, pushing with all his might on the wider 
portion of the step in whose crevice Rob’s foot was 
imprisoned. 

“It moves a little doesn’t it ?” said Jacqueline, breath¬ 
ing hard as she pushed determinedly. 

“Ouch! Oh! I say, get it out will you? I tell you 
it hurts! It hurts something fierce,” whimpered Rob 
dismally. 

“I’ve got it. Hurrah!” screamed Jack gayly, and as 
he spoke, Rob felt the tight clasp loosen on his poor 
ankle. Felt the slow but heavenly relief of numbness 
vanishing. Heard the thud of his boot strike the 
floor, free once more. Heard also a click and Jack’s ex¬ 
cited whisper: 

“It’s a secret slide, fellows! Sh-Sh! Right here on 
the stairs, just think of it! Isn’t it swell? Sh-Sh! 
Don’t tell a soul. We can have heaps of fun with it.” 

“A secret slide ? Oh, goody, goody! Just like a story 
book. Show it to us, Jack,” begged Jacqueline. 

“Where is it? How do you know?” demanded Rob 
grumpily and doubtingly. 

“Didn’t I feel it slide? Didn’t you hear it click? 
That’s how I know 'course,’ ” challenged Jack. “But 


THE SECRET SLIDE 


19 


oh, I say! I can't find it. I've shut it up again you 
see and now I've lost the spring." 

“What are you children doing huddled here in a cor¬ 
ner? Trying to trip us all up and break our necks 
I suppose. Well, I’ll have none of it. Come along out 
here. Master Rob, you run home as fast as you can. 
You’ve no business here so late. Come along little 
girl and Master Jack. Supper is ready this long time. 
Hurry now. I’ll not be delayed. ’Tis my evening out.’’ 

An irritable maid servant had pounced upon the 
children and soon had the small force disbanded. Not 
however, before sympathetic Jacqueline whispered to 
Rob: 

“I’m sorry about your foot, poor little boy.’’ 

“I’m not a little boy,’’ he growled at her, frowning 
heavily. “I’m heaps bigger than you.’’ 

“I’m sorry ’bout your foot just the same,’’ smiled 
the little girl. 

“Oh, all right,’’ grunted Rob less crossly. “Guess 
it won’t kill me. Good night. I’m off.’’ 

“Bye, Rob!’’ screamed Jack cheerily. “Sh-Sh. Re¬ 
member our secret. Our code’s S. S. Huh?’’ 

“S. S. ?’’ questioned slower Rob. 

“Do you children intend to mind me or not?’’ de¬ 
manded the unrelenting voice of the maid. 

“S. S. You know, Rob. Course you do,’’ beseeched 
Jacqueline. “Secret SI—’’ but Adorable’s hand popped 
suddenly over her rosy mouth. 

“Sh-Sh!’’ he hissed. 

“Oh, yes. I get you. So long!’’ laughed Rob. He 
came panting, limping back to say, “don’t you play with 
it ’thout me, will you, huh?’’ 

“No we won’t,’’ answered amiable little Jacqueline 
but Adorable did not hear his chum. He was too busy 
trying to dodge the impatient maid who insisted that 
his hands and face were dirty and “that he’d wash 
them, yes he would, before he’d eat, so there.’’ 


20 


JACK 


Now Hester, as this maid was called, had a tart 
way of speaking but really was kind at heart. She 
had often been good friend to Jack, so after he had 
teased her sufficiently, he ran obligingly out of the 
room humming: 

“Right-o Hester. Here I go. I'll wash my hands 
and maybe my face. Tra-la-la-la de dal”! Singing gayly 
he disappeared arid Hester turned her attention to 
Jacqueline. 

“Sit here, little Miss. 'Tis a pleasant seat. It faces 
the fire. 'Tis smart cold these Spring evenings. Will 
you have gruel, my dear, or just your sugar buns and 
milk?” 

“Thank you,” smiled Jacqueline. “Yes, this is a nice 
seat, isn't it? You were so kind to give it to me. I 
love a kindlely, snapping old fire like that. It's jolly. 
Is this where Jack eats when he's all alone? He's my 
brother, you know. He isn't going to live here any 
more. We've come to take him home.” 

“Land sakes! Is that so?” said Hester in great 
surprise. “Why, what will Sir Gilbert do? He sets a 
heap on that boy, he does.” 

“I'm sorry about Sir Gilbert,” answered the little 
girl softly. “He's nice, isn't he? But Jack's ours you 
know. He's been lost a long time. Maybe Sir Gilbert 
will come home with us, too.” 

“La! Where do you live?” questioned amazed Hes¬ 
ter. 

“Oh, in a dear, old place, ever so far away. Oh, why 
doesn't Jack hurry. I'm just starved, truly.” 

“Eat then, little Miss. Don't wait for Master Jack. 
He’ll be here after a bit.” 

But the seconds grew into minutes and the minutes 
rounded out the hour, and no Jack came. At first 
Jacqueline and Hester chatted so pleasantly that they 
scarcely noticed time flying but at last came a sum- 


THE SECRET SLIDE 


21 


mons from the drawing-room. Master Jack was wanted 
at once by his father, Hilary Wayne. 

Hester who stood rather in awe of the messenger, 
James the butler, hurried upstairs to search for the 
child. But she returned in a few moments consider¬ 
ably flustered, completely mystified. Adorable had not 
been in his room at all she asserted excitedly. It was 
too “orderly looking.” He had evidently not gone up¬ 
stairs when she had sent him to wash for supper. 

“He was in your charge,” grimly accused James. 
“Find him and be quick for neither Sir Gilbert nor Mr. 
Wayne are in a mood for nonsense.” 

Jacqueline bounded up merrily. “Don’t cry, Hester,” 
she said in her breezy little way. “I’ll help you find 
Jack. He’s hiding, maybe.” And here the child laughed 
apologetically and looked up into James’ stern face. 
“Hester can’t help it. Please, don’t scold her, Sir.” 

“Miss,” answered the man-servant gravely, “You 
are wanted too. Your parents are about to leave. Will 
you go in at once?” 

“Oh, of course I will,” agreed Jacqueline pleasantly. 
“I’ll tell Mother Jack is hiding, Hester, and she will let 
me come back to help you find him.” With this friendly 
assurance the little girl tripped off to the drawing¬ 
room. 

If she had found it “stuffy and miserable-like” before, 
it seemed doubly so now. Evidently matters had not 
been adjusted satisfactorily. Mr. Wayne was pacing 
restlessly up and down in front of the fire place. 

Old Annette was weeping copiously. The stout, 
severe-looking lady was speaking her mind quite freely 
to Sir Gilbert who, apparently unmoved by her attack, 
sat well back in his huge, lounging chair with the tips 
of the fingers of his slim, wrinkled hands tapping each 
other methodically. 

Mr. Bob, the clerk, and the two professional-looking 


22 


JACK 


men who had been in the drawing-room earlier, had 
disappeared. 

At first, Jacqueline did not see her mother and began 
to question her father eagerly. 

“Daddy, where’s Mumpie ?”—Then breaking off that 
speech abruptly—“Oh, there she is. Oh, Mumpie. 
Jack is hiding. He’s just too jolly for anything. May 
I help Hester find him? Hester’s the maid you see, 
who gave me my tea.” 

Mrs. Wayne, like Sir Gilbert, was cool and tranquil 
amid all the excitement. She stood looking up at an 
old-fashioned portrait of one of Sir Gilbert’s ancestors. 
A quiet smile was on her lips as she turned to greet 
her little daughter. 

“Have you and Jack had a nice time, dearie ? Mother 
is so glad. We must say good-night to Jack now, 
though. We must go away without him you see.” 

“Oh, Mumpie,” wailed Jacqueline in mournful disap¬ 
pointment. “I thought Jack was coming with us. Why 
isn’t he?” 

“Sir Gilbert has been very kind to our little boy for 
many years,” explained her mother softly. “He loves 
him so very much that he does not wish to give him 
up to us just yet. We must be patient, little daughter, 
but some day soon, I am sure, Jack will be allowed to 
come home.” 

Her bright, clear eyes sought the old gentleman’s 
with frank friendliness and his keen ones studied her 
face searchingly. But voices in the hall could now be 
distinctly heard raised in excitement. 

James opened the door even while remonstrating 
with some one and Hester distracted and hysterical 
burst in to say: 

“Oh, Sir Gilbert, we can’t find Master Jack anywhere. 
He’s not over at Master Rob’s either. We telephoned. 
And I’ve searched the house high and low, that I have.” 


THE SECRET SLIDE 


23 


“Quite right, Hester. Quite right,” agreed the old 
gentleman calmly, “You need not worry. You may 
withdraw. Master Jack is not here but he is safe. You 
may go. You also, James.” 

Through the tense silence that followed all this sur¬ 
prising dialogue Hilary Wayne’s voice broke sharply— 
“What do you mean, Sir Gilbert?” There was a chal¬ 
lenge in the tone. 

“I mean just what I said,” the old baronet replied. 
“I am merely safeguarding my rights. When you can 
legally, absolutely prove that my ward is your son, I 
will relinquish my claim to him honorably. Until then 
he is safe. But not here. No, not here.” 

The stately old man rose and bowing to Mrs. Wayne 
with solemn dignity, continued,—if you will accept my 
hospitality, Madam, and you also, Sir, (indicating Mr. 
Wayne) we will now dine. Annette, you may go. Oh, 
pardon me, Madam,” apparently seeing the belligerent 
lady of the jet beads for the first time, “Will you not 
also dine with us ?” 

“Sir Gilbert, this is nonsense,” thundered young Mr. 
Wayne indignantly. “Do you think the law will permit 
such a course as you have taken ? Sir,—I demand that 
the house be thoroughly searched and at once. With 
your permission I will telephone for the proper authori¬ 
ties.” 

But before his hand had more than reached the in¬ 
strument, an unexpected cry rang out triumphantly. 
It came from Jacqueline, the ever alert. 

“Oh, Mumpie, Daddy, I’ll find him. I know where 
he is. Come, I’ll show you! There’s a secret stair¬ 
case.” 


CHAPTER III. 


UNDER THE SHINING STARS 

When Adorable ran off singing to wash for tea, his 
feet faltered for a second over the mysterious step on 
the staircase. He dropped down on his knees to ex¬ 
amine it once more, but almost instantly an alert con¬ 
science reminded him that this would scarcely be “play¬ 
ing fair” with his co-discoverers. 

Grimly he scrambled up then and continued on his 
way to his room. But in the upper hall came another 
digression. He could hear someone whistling. To wash 
at any time seemed to Jack foolish waste of happy 
moments, hence, the longer he could postpone the 
dreary task, the better. 

Why, that was Mr. Bob's whistle, “course it was.” 
Well, he'd better go in and find out what Mr. Bob was 
doing upstairs anyhow. Guess he would. 

Mr. Bob never came to his room this early. He was 
generally busy with Sir Gilbert until long after Ador¬ 
able's bed-time. 

“Sure he was.” Didn't Adorable know full well how 
hard it was to keep his sleepy eyes open waiting for 
him? One solemn rite of their code of Pal-ship was 
this stolen visit each night of Mr. Bob to little Jack. 

Naturally, now that his good friend was so near, 
thoughts of waiting tea-tables and impatient Hesters 
and jolly Jacquelines all vanished like magic from 
Jack's mind. He paddled eagerly down the corridor 
to a room from which the whistling issued. The door 
was ajar, Mr. Bob's green shaded student lamp cast 
a soft pathway of light across the threshold. Within 
its cheery radiance a small boy paused. 

24 


UNDER THE SHINING STARS 


25 


“Hi, Mr. Bob!” he called. “Kin I come in? —Oh, 
I say where you going? What you packing up for? 
Huh, Mr. Bob?” 

The sturdy body of Adorable was now wedged se¬ 
curely in the space between the partially opened door 
and the casing. His big brown eyes were almost pop¬ 
ping out of his head. 

The young man kneeling on the floor, tumbling gar¬ 
ments rapidly into a suit-case, he stopped whistling 
and turned his head to survey Jack over one shoulder. 

“Hi, Jack,” he remarked in friendly fashion,—“You 
kin come in, I reckon, if you can walk. You may also! 
Come ahead, old Scout.” 

His teasing grin was too much for Adorable who 
loathed even such good-natured sallies on his deplor¬ 
able abuse of the English language. 

Mr. Bob was just where Jack wanted him. In a half 
a second Jack was on the young man’s broad back and 
both his brown hands were around Mr. Bob’s throat. 

“Take it back. Take it back,” yelled Adorable trium¬ 
phantly. “I’ve got you Mr. Bob.” 

“Have you now ?” gasped Mr. Bob as well as he could 
for the pressure brought to bear on his vocal cords, 
“Well, we’ll see,” and presto, Jack was sailing through 
space at a giddy rate of speed, and after this delightful 
sensation was plumped down, right in the middle of 
Mr. Bob’s bed. 

Laughing and sputtering, Adorable floundered there 
while Mr. Bob returned to his packing. 

“Huh, Mr. Bob, you’re going crazy aren’t you?” 
teased Adorable suddenly from where he was surveying 
proceedings through the brass bars of the foot-board. 

“Why, you’re packing my gray suit in there and oh, 
I say—are you going to take my Treasure Island and 
Rob Crusoe along ? Whiz! I’m glad. I always wanted 
you to read them. Mine have such jolly big print. 


26 


JACK 


Easy as nothing to read. Say, where are you going 
Mr. Bob ? Please tell a guy, won’t yer ?” 

“Jack,” groaned his Pal sitting back on the rug and 
surveying the little boy tragically. ‘Til do anything in 
reason for you, old chap, if you’ll only try to speak 
fit to eat. Your kins and your yers and your whatchers 
are giving me nervous prostration. No wonder I have 
to go away for a rest.” 

“Oh, are you going away for a long time, huh ?” asked 
Jack miserably. He began to kick his feet just at 
this moment, hoping thus to offset a childish impulse 
to cry. 

“Jack,” hissed Mr. Bob in wild distress, “Hop off 
that counterpane, p-l-e-a-s-e. I know I threw you there 
but I didn’t anticipate such thrashing around as you 
seem to be strong for tonight. Slide down here be¬ 
side me and I’ll tell you my tale of woe.” 

Jack slid, arriving with a bang but his face had 
grown happier during the last second and a half. 

“You don’t want to go, do you, Mr. Bob? Can’t 
you call it off ? Aw, say, don’t go. Please!” 

The young man glanced quickly at Adorable’s face, 
saw under the dawning glow of relief, a look of wist¬ 
fulness that went straight to his particular tender 
heart. It took him back two years to the first night 
he had spent in Sir Gilbert’s employ. He had been 
awakened about midnight by a child’s scream of terror. 
Sensitive to the call of all helpless things, Mr. Bob had 
stumbled blindly out of his room and down a long 
corridor in search of the sound. A long drawn out, 
shuddering, gasping, little sob had finally located Jack’s 
misery for him and through a path of moon-beams 
he walked into Adorable’s young life. 

Jack had seen a short, thick-set young man in a crim¬ 
son bathrobe crossing the floor to his bedside. A young 
man with a crop of curly black hair and the kindest pos¬ 
sible sort of blue eyes. 


UNDER THE SHINING STARS 


27 


Mr. Bob had seen a small, red-haired boy woefully 
neglected sitting upright in his little bed absolutely 
shivering with the terror which falls upon any child 
as the result of a very bad dream. 

“Hello, youngster,” the man had caroled cheerily. 
The fact that his voice was still husky from interrupted 
slumber did not make his salutation one whit the less 
comforting. 

“Hello!” gasped out the child in brave response. 

“What's the matter, old chap? Was the tiger after 
you and had you just come to the creek and found a 
big crocodile waiting for you with a mouth open—this 
wide ?” 

The gay midnight guest had seated himself right 
on the edge of Jack's bed and putting his arms and 
wrists together cleverly made motions with his hands 
as of a huge mouth opening and closing ferociously. 

One of the uncontrollable jolly giggles that were so 
specially Adorable's own rang out to Mr. Bob's great 
relief. 

“How did you guess, huh?” Adorable had asked ea¬ 
gerly. And then tumbled out another question. “Who 
are you, anyhow, huh?” 

“Here, kiddie, just cuddle up beside me and I'll tell 
you. There, let me tuck you in. Good-night! but your 
hands are cold! Why, you're freezing, poor little chap.” 

With that the big-hearted, impulsive fellow had 
lifted his small friend bodily out of the bed, wrapped 
a blanket about him as tenderly as a mother might 
have done and smuggled him off to' his own room. That 
was the beginning of a wonderful Pal-ship which had 
meant more to Adorable than other influence thus far 
brought to bear on his young life. 

Mr. Bob had told Sir Gilbert of the neglect shown 
the little lad by servants, of the little lad so poorly 
provided with proper coverings, of the lonely midnight 
hour, of the terrified child. Immediately, the old 


28 


JACK 


gentleman had taken decisive steps for Jack’s comfort. 
The sleeping-room of the child was moved to the sun¬ 
niest possible exposure. The fittings for it were chosen 
with the utmost care and Annette, the kind, gentle, 
old French governess was found, hired and installed in 
Jack’s small realm. 

Annette’s heart went out to her little, lonely charge 
immediately. 

It was distressing to Jack at first to be so often ca¬ 
ressed and praised but something sweet-toned within 
him sensed the fidelity and love of this good woman 
and he repaid her by his quick response to kindness. 
Her constant references to him as “Mon Adorable 
One” had tickled Mr. Bob’s sense of humor prodig¬ 
iously. When he had first asked Jack his name, the 
child had answered, “Jackie.” 

“Jackie what?” queried Mr. Bob. 

“Jackie don’t,” came the swift response. 

Mr. Bob’s laugh had been loud and long. 

Jack had evidently thought the constant use made 
by the servants of “Master Jackie, don’t,” at all turns 
along his childish way, meant that “don’t” was part 
of his name as truly as Jack. 

When Annette appeared and the use of “Adorable 
One” came into play, Mr. Bob instantly dubbed his lit¬ 
tle chum that for all time and gradually, much to 
Jack’s indignation it became his nick-name with those 
who knew him best. 

Among some of his funny sayings just at this time 
was his term for Annette. He called her in spite of 
Sir Gilbert’s protests, “the advertised lady.” The 
fact that he had heard Mr. Bob say that he had ad¬ 
vertised for her in the paper had lent a glamour to her 
coming which Master Jack could not ignore. “Miss 
Annette,” seemed tame! “The advertised lady,” 
sounded thrilly. 


UNDER THE SHINING STARS 


29 


But all this while we have left Jack and Mr. Bob 
on their knees beside an open traveling bag. 

To return,— 

“No, Jack, old fellow I can't call it off," Mr. Bob 
answered slowly while he rolled up a couple of towels 
containing tooth-brushes, combs and military brushes. 

“But there's one nice side to it. Now don't yell, 
please. Can you keep a secret, do you think?" 

“Yes—yes—oh, tell me. Go ahead, please," urged 
Jack breathing hard. 

“We haven't any time to lose," exclaimed Mr. Bob 
abruptly, tucking in the few remaining articles strewn 
on the floor. “Get your cap and coat quickly, Jack! 
You are coming with me and we must move fast." 

“Oo—oo—ooo!" Jack's scream of delight was crushed 
into a gurgle of bliss by Mr. Bob's strong hand placed 
gently but firmly over his mouth. 

“Where are we goin' to? Oh, hurrah!" whispered 
the child when released. 

Mr. Bob held out a small coat suggestively. Jack 
wiggled into it, chuckling happily. Then his Pal tossed 
his cap to him and ordered: 

“Start ahead, Adorable One. I'll switch out the 
lights. We must move swiftly now." And then as 
they finally crossed the threshold of the room, he 
added,—“Straight down the hall, youngster, and out 
by way of the side balcony. We are hitting the trail 
together at last, little pal." 

Five minutes later two figures disappeared amid the 
dense shrubbery of the garden. They emerged finally 
in a quiet alley at the rear of the house. There Jack's 
cup of joy ran over for awaiting their arrival was a 
motor-cycle—that dream of Jack's young life. It had 
a sort of small boat attachment at the side into which 
the little boy and the bag were tucked securely—then 
with a hiss and a roar and a glorious bang, they were 
off. 


30 


JACK 


Soon only their rear lamp could he seen in the dis¬ 
tance, had any watcher peered after them; but be¬ 
fore them gleamed the cheerful glow of their head¬ 
light, around them stirred the soft Spring breezes and 
over their heads smiled down the beautiful, shining 
stars. 


CHAPTER IV 


OFF TO VISIT “YOUNG GIL” 

At first, neither of the travelers spoke. Mr. Bob's 
silence resulted from the troubled state of his mind in 
regard to this adventure upon which he had embarked. 
Adorable's lack of conversation was due to the fact 
that the suddenness and delightfulness of the experi¬ 
ence had quite taken his breath away. For several 
blocks they chugged swiftly along the alleys but at 
last, Mr. Bob steered his metal steed out into a broad, 
well-lighted street. They were nearing the busy sec¬ 
tion of the National Capital now, and Adorable immedi¬ 
ately sat upright, his brown eyes aglow with interest 
and excitement. 

The cheerful sight of an attractive looking cafe first 
loosened his unusually silent tongue. 

“Oh, Mr. Bob, I haven't had any supper. Whiz, but 
I'm hungry!” and thereupon he began to chuckle mer¬ 
rily. 

Mr. Bob gave him a genial side-glance. 

“Good boy,” he commended warmly. “It's right 
nice of you to face it so pleasantly. Maybe you and 
I can get a little bite after a bit. Just be as patient as 
you can.” 

“Sure I will,” agreed Jack in fine spirits. “I don't 
mind being hungry so very much. This is swell fun 
anyhow. Say, Mr. Bob, what I was laughing 'bout's 
Hester. She sent me to wash up for tea and now she 
won't know where I am. Ha! ha! ha!” Adorable threw 
back his ruddy head and laughed heartily. Evidently 
to tease the maid, Hester, had been one of his favorite 
pastimes. 


31 


32 


JACK 


"It's not Hester Fm worrying about,” remarked Mr. 
Bob grimly. 

“What's the matter?” queried the little boy, bend¬ 
ing forward until by putting his head down on the bag 
which had been placed in front of him, he could peer 
straight up into his companion's face. 

“Nothing that need bother you, youngster. Just try 
to enjoy yourself. See the Capital? Doesn't it look 
fine though, all sparkling with lights?” 

“You bet,” agreed Jack heartily. “And the Monu¬ 
ment looks like a snow mountain. Oh, oh,” he yelled 
a few minutes later, “we are going 'long the Speed¬ 
way huh ? Oh, hurrah, hurrah!” 

It was enough truly to thrill a child, through and 
through, with wholesome happiness—that sudden, 
glorious sweep down the most famous roadway in the 
country. The fragrance of the rich Spring blooms filled 
the night air with a wondrous sweetness. Stately old 
trees and luxuriant foliage on both sides of the drive 
stirred in the breeze as though whispering a lullaby to 
Jack as he passed and best of all under the soft, pale 
light of a baby moon, the coppery gleam of the river 
rippled and rolled before, beside and behind them all 
the way. 

“Oh, Mr. Bob,” exclaimed Jack suddenly, “Are we 
goin' on a real long ride ? Are we goin' to camp out all 
night ?” 

“Granted the long ride,” assented his companion, 
“but not the sleeping out part. We will put up some¬ 
where at night. Sir Gilbert was afraid to have you 
exposed to the chill and dampness of these Spring 
nights.” 

“Oh shucks!” said Adorable in disappointed tones. 
“I'd have liked it, heaps. Wouldn't you, Mr. Bob?” 

And then before his friend could answer him, he 
hurried on with further remarks: 

“I didn't see Grandy-dad before I left. I didn't say 


OFF TO VISIT “YOUNG GIL’ 


33 


goodby or thank-you or nothin’. ’Spose he’ll mind, Mr. 
Bob?” 

Although Sir Gilbert was no relation whatever to 
Jack, the little boy had always called him “Grandy- 
dad” and the name had become dear to the grim old 
gentleman’s heart. 

Mr. Bob laughed a little; “It’s all right. He will 
understand. We are moving under his orders, you see. 
Have you guessed where we are off to?” 

“No! Tell me, will you? Please do.” 

Adorable made a lunge forward as though he would 
change places with the bag that he might watch his 
Pal’s face to better advantage, but Mr. Bob spoke to 
him sternly. 

“Sit where you were, Jack. If you get fidgeting you 
will spill yourself out, and as we are going at some 
speed, that might spell broken bones.” 

“Where are we going?” persisted Jack. 

“Aren’t you going to try to guess ?” teased the man. 

“Can’t. Go ahead, tell me,” urged Jack. 

“Well then, if you must know, we’re going to visit 
young Gil! There, there, don’t get too excited, sonny. 
Save some of your joy for when we stand once more 
on firm ground. A cycle is no place to dance and caper. 
Be-caref ul-do!” 

“Oh-oh-hurrah, hurrah!” roared Adorable lustily. 
“I can’t help it. I can’t help it! Zip! There goes my 
cap, Mr. Bob.” 

“Of course,” groaned his friend. You wouldn’t be 
happy unless we had to stop for something. I might 
have known it.” 

Undismayed, Jack chuckled away delightedly and 
curled himself over the side of the small boat-like at¬ 
tachment, until one observing him would have feared 
dislocation for his every limb. 

“There it is. I see it. I’ll get it!” he screamed as 
the great machine slowed down and finally stopped. 


34 


JACK 


“Well, all right, jump out if you must,” laughed Mr. 
Bob. “I hadn't expected to rest quite so soon, but 
little folks get twitchy, I reckon.” 

Jack jumped blithely out and after one moment of 
hesitancy, caused by stiffness of his small legs which 
had been somewhat cramped, he trotted merrily back 
to where his cap lay, a tiny, dark spot in the road-way. 

Before he picked it up he looked about eagerly, his 
brown eyes sparkling with interest and curiosity. Some 
few moments ago they had spun over the bridge which 
has replaced famous old Long Bridge, and now they 
were on the Virginia shore. Jack was in a lonely spot. 
There were no sounds of human life around him. Some¬ 
thing in the stillness and gloom of the location made 
the little lad stoop hurriedly, snatch up his cap and 
humming a measure or two of a jolly jingle, hurry 
back to Mr. Bob. 

But lo! On approaching the place where he had left 
his Pal what was his surprise to find no trace of either 
Mr. Bob or the machine anywhere. 

Far off, up the densely shaded road, twinkled street 
lights, but where Jack stood was a lonely country side. 
There was a great meadow and a hedge of brushwood 
to the right, a ditch and overhanging trees to the left. 

For a second dark, shadowy things seemed to be 
creeping around him. 

Adorable was frightened. Just as truly terror- 
stricken as on that night two years ago when Mr. Bob 
had found him sitting up in bed shivering. But Ador¬ 
able was nine now, almost a man! Afraid? Pooh! 
Not he. 

Up went that flaming head of his, up went his merry 
eyes. Up-up, far up above bending trees and grim 
shadows, to those dear, brilliant stars that seemed to 
smile down and twinkle at him like good comrades who 
would steer him safely never fear. 

But there was a sound beyond the brushwood. A 


OFF TO VISIT “YOUNG GIL” 


35 


slow and almost stealthy step. A crack of a twig. A 
large, dark object plunging into sight. A snort! 

Jack gave a yell and flew up the road in a whirl of 
dust. Then abruptly he halted, turned and went back. 
His hands were in his pockets, his lips were forced into 
a whistling pucker. 

“I shan’t be a baby. I’m not afraid. No, sir-ee,” he 
muttered and soon a resolute small boy was back to 
the point he had started his mad race from and faced 
the “black peril” which had plunged at him from behind 
the brushwood. And facing it, he laughed long and 
gleefully. 

Meanwhile, stopping for a moment from cropping 
the roadside grass, the “black peril” looked down at 
the small person it had frightened. Looked down mourn¬ 
fully and speculatively. The Black Peril was a great, 
raw-boned, neglected, old horse. Its mane was rough 
and unkempt. Its poor sides were pitifully lean. Its 
back bore scars. Its whole appearance spelt abuse, 
desolation, abandonment. Its great sad eyes seemed 
to be begging this little boy who stood in its path¬ 
way to be kind to it. 

“Hello, oT horse! How are you?” demanded Jack, 
reaching out a genial hand to pat the Black Peril. 
“Scart me for a second, you did. Where’d you come 
from, huh?” 

By the time he had finished addressing this new 
acquaintance, Adorable was on tip-toe, trying hard to 
fling his arm up to catch the Black Peril around the 
neck. He had all a small boy’s natural love for horses, 
be they thoroughbreds or outcasts. To the latter class 
Black Peril undoubtedly belonged. 

The poor old horse whinnied pitifully as the gentle¬ 
ness of the child’s hand assured it of friendliness. 
Down came the head with its unkempt mane right on 
to Adorable’s shoulder. By every means in its power 


36 


JACK 


it was endeavoring to acknowledge Jack's cheery greet¬ 
ing. 

Then a voice startled them both. 

“Frightened were you, Jackie ? I was watching you 
all the time. What have you found ? A horse ? Some 
discoverer you are!" 

“Hello, Dobbin!" 

It was Mr. Bob. He had emerged from a shadowy 
nook on the left and advanced speaking cheerily to 
both boy and horse. 

“Come over here, Jackie. I've fixed a surprise for 
you. Bring old Dobbin along, the more the merrier," 
he continued, beckoning Adorable to follow him back 
from whence he had come. And a second later a small 
boy and a horse marched joyfully in upon a small 
oval where a camp fire cheerfully burned, where a pot 
of steaming cocoa filled the night air with tantalizing 
fragrance, where sandwiches and cookies and apples lay 
spread on a newspaper table-cloth and where, in the 
back-ground, a motorcycle stood ready for action when 
the tourists so willed. 

“Whoop-whoop-whoop!" yelled Jack, as jubilantly as 
only hungry youngsters can. “Mr. Bob, you sure are 
a trump. Kin-no can, oh, pshaw may I eat all I want, 
huh? Sandwiches,—oh jiminy ain't I glad! You, too 
Dobbin," he added patting the Black Peril reassuringly. 

“Of course, of course, agreed Mr. Bob, turning from 
his fire after a professional poke at the blaze, and a 
final stir of the cocoa. “Dobbin is our guest. He is 
welcome to his share. Yes you are," he continued, 
striding over to the horse and stroking it kindly. 

Dobbin seemed to accept his name from this friendly 
young man quite gracefully, for he neighed and rubbed 
his head affectionately along Mr. Bob's sleeve. But his 
eyes, those great, mournful eyes followed Adorable. 
Longing, yes almost greed seemed to flash into their 


OFF TO VISIT “YOUNG GIL” 


37 


depths suddenly as the little boy came back with a 
sandwich in each hand. 

“Oh, look, Mr. Bob, he wants 'em. See, he’s sniffing. 
Oh, ha, ha, isn’t it funny? See how he’s stretching 
out his neck. Sure you kin, you can have ’em. All you 
want ol’ horse. There.” 

“No, no Jack,” commanded Mr. Bob sharply. “Give 
them to me please.” 

Adorable obeyed without a protest. Impulsive young¬ 
ster though he was and wilful at times, he rarely ques¬ 
tioned Mr. Bob’s mandates. His pal never had given 
him a curt order for any but a just reason. The little 
boy trusted this man absolutely. 

Mr. Bob broke the sandwiches into small pieces and 
made Adorable hold his small hand perfectly flat. He 
laid a scrap or two at a time on the child’s palm and 
advised him: “Hold your hand just so, Jackie. Poor 
old Dobbin is ravenously hungry I fear. He might at 
the first taste of food snap your fingers off if you are 
careless, and then how sorry we’d all be. No more 
party tonight, eh? There you are! Now go to it, 
Dobbin!” 

“Oo-ho-ho-why, they’re all gone, just as fast as 
lightning, Mr. Bob! Whiz, but he’s hungry. Kin, can 
I give him some more ?” 

Adorable was hopping up and down in wild excite¬ 
ment. Dobbin was edging nearer and nearer to the 
feast with rolling eyes, and when Mr. Bob stepped in 
between, he neighed again and again, with a real wist¬ 
ful sound, so it seemed to our tourists. 

“There’ll not be much left, Jack, if we give poor Dob 
all he wants,” laughed Mr. Bob. “Say, stir up the cocoa 
again will you, while I hold him back. Poor thing, he 
certainly is famished.” 

“Give ’em all to him, Mr. Bob!” cried out the boy 
eagerly as he hopped over to the camp fire to obey 
his pal’s directions. “He’s heaps hungrier than we are. 


38 


JACK 


But oh, I say, can't we save out some of those cookies ? 
My, but I love that kind.” Jack's gaze fixed itself long¬ 
ingly on some chocolate covered cakes which topped off 
the feast. 

“We can't give the poor old chap too much anyway,'' 
explained Bob. “We’d make him sick. Another sand¬ 
wich, a cake or two and a good quaff out of that pail of 
water there and I'll have to call Mr. Dobbin's meal 
enough and tie him over yonder until we have a bite 
ourselves. Wish we had some oats. They are what 
the poor fellow needs. Why, why, what's this. Who 
are you?” 

A rustle of dried grass behind them caused all mem¬ 
bers of our party to turn about hastily. A small dark 
shadow came falteringly through the archway of the 
trees. 

“It's just, it’s just me, sir,” whimpered a timid little 
voice. “I—I came to feed my horse. Oh, Jim, I was 
so afraid I lost you.” 

Dobbin at the first sound of the stranger's approach 
had pricked up his ears. He whinnied now an affection¬ 
ate welcome. He tried to lurch forward to greet his 
tattered little master. 

The new-comer was by this time within the radius 
of the fire's glow. 

Jack like Dobbin sprang to his side. “Hello!” he 
called out curiously but cordially, “Who are you ?” 

“My name's Kid Carson,” answered the other slowly, 
“least ways, that’s what they call me. He's my horse,” 
jerking his small thumb in Dobbin's direction. “My 
horse, Jim. I bought him I did,” and the ragged, little 
urchin, straightened himself up and looked at Jack as 
proudly as though Jim happened to be a treasure of 
countless worth. 

“Hello, Kid!” was Jack's response. “I'm Jack Gil¬ 
bert. This is Mr. Bob, my friend. He and I are camp- 


OFF TO VISIT “YOUNG GIL” 


39 


ing out. Oh, I say, Mr. Bob, may Kid have some of 
the party, huh?” 

“Most assuredly,” laughed Mr. Bob. “Sit in, young¬ 
sters. I'll attend to Dobbin, alias Jim or Jim alias 
Dobbin. I see his master has brought him some oats.” 

The young man took the shallow, wooden box that 
Kid had in his hands and smiling at the child urged 
him kindly. “Go over there with Jack and have some 
fun. I’ll attend to your horse.” 

“Come on,” called Adorable, “Like cocoa? Have 
some. Like sandwiches? Take a fat one. Catch on 
to the cakes! Like 'em? Have all you want.” 

“Jiminy Squeesics!” ejaculated amazed Kid. “Well, 
I never! Mean fer me to fall to and eat? Thank- 
thanky heaps!” 


CHAPTER V 


LITTLE MISS DETECTIVE 

At Jacqueline’s disconcerting announcement /of a 
secret stair-case, Mr. Wayne left the telephone hastily 
and strode forward facing Sir Gilbert with fresh dis¬ 
play of resentment. 

“So there is a secret hiding place here,” he said dry¬ 
ly. “I was scarcely prepared for old-time methods of 
abduction and concealment. Now that the trick has 
been so completely foiled by this little lady,” laying 
his hand proudly on his daughter’s head, “will you 
be fair-minded enough to release the child you are 
hiding or must we take the matter up with police 
headquarters ?” 

Hilary Wayne was an extremely youthful looking 
man. All his ways were as quick, impulsive, and eager 
as a boy’s. In stature, coloring and feature, Jacqueline 
was his counterpart. As they stood, side by side, 
before the coldly dignified old baronet, that grave per¬ 
sonage’s face unexpectedly relaxed into a whimsical 
smile.— 

“You are a very likeable, interesting pair truly,” 
he remarked to Hilary Wayne’s intense disgust, “and I 
wish you,” indicating the man, “could prove yourself 
honest. I’d really like to think you were Jack’s father. 
Instead of wasting time endeavoring to have a respect¬ 
able house-holder’s private home inspected by police, 
why don’t you busy yourself bringing convincing proofs 
to me in legal form that the child is yours. I have 
no reason to take your word for it. Tush! I am not 
kidnapping. I am merely aiming to protect the boy I 
have adopted from being claimed by every stray tour- 
40 


LITTLE MISS DETECTIVE 


41 


ist who happens to think he might be the child they 
lost, seven or eight years ago.” 

“You are trying to kill time and throw me off the 
scent,” remonstrated Mr. Wayne hotly. “Jacqueline, 
lead me to the place where you discovered the secret 
slide or spring whichever it is. I will explore the place 
whether I am justified in the deed or not. Agnes, 
dearest, are you feeling strong enough under all this 
strain to remain here and watch Sir Gilbert's move¬ 
ments and telephone instantly for detectives when I 
send you word by little Jacqueline.” 

The excited boyish voice softened as he turned to 
address his wife. 

Mrs. Wayne had not spoken a word during all this 
heated discussion. By sheer force of a stronger will 
she seemed to have been able to restrain the warlike 
old lady of the jet beads and bangles, from aiding and 
abetting Hilary Wayne in his indignant attack upon 
Sir Gilbert. 

She smiled a little now and stepped quietly forward. 
There was a wistful look in her soft, dark eyes but the 
rest of her fine face was strong, self-reliant, inspiring. 
She drew her quick-silvery little daughter into the 
warm shelter of her right arm and laid her other hand 
on her husband's shoulder, forcing him to look her 
squarely in the eye. 

“Hilary, we will not trespass on Sir Gilbert Tread¬ 
well's hospitality another moment. My dear, what has 
come over you ? Explore private passages in another's 
home ? Let little Jacqueline race like a hoyden through 
a stranger's house, spying into secret nooks and cor¬ 
ners ? Are we all going mad after all these lonely years 
just at the first sight of our little son's face, at the 
first sound of his voice ?” 

“But, Agnes,” remonstrated Mr. Wayne hotly. 

“But, Mumpie,” groaned Jacqueline disconsolately— 

“But, Belovedests both,” she mimicked them merrily 


42 


JACK 


and at the title of endearment so absurd and so newly 
coined all three laughed outright and the ice was 
broken. The tenseness of the whole situation relaxed. 
The gentle ease and calm serenity of Jack’s mother won 
the day. Her graciousness seemed to reach out and 
calm all present. 

“Now, Sir Gilbert, may I speak to you?” she asked 
sweetly, turning to the old gentleman with absolute 
friendliness and trust in her tone. 

“I am honored, Madam,” he answered, bowing form¬ 
ally. “I want you to know also, before you speak, 
that I believe in you fully, entirely. I do not think 
Jack is your lost son, but I do firmly believe that you 
think so and are absolutely honest and honorable in 
presenting your claim.” 

“Thank you,” she said softly, “Now, I will say my 
little word and make it as brief as I can. You are all 
very weary I know and I am a bit overtaxed myself. 
I thank you, Sir Gilbert, for the very deep affection 
which I can plainly see you entertain for my little son. 
I thank you more than I can ever express for the love 
and comfort with which you have surrounded him. I 
am perfectly content to leave him in your care until 
we can prove without question our claim. After that 
time I want things arranged in such a way that by my 
gain you need not suffer complete loss. I will never 
permit Jack to be entirely separated from you. I value 
all you have done too much for that. 

“Finally, I ask your indulgence for the impetuousness 
of our onslaught upon you today. We found traces of 
our lost darling after many years of sorrow. We came 
straight here thinking only of ourselves in claiming 
him so abruptly. Pardon our ruthlessness and now 
may I bid you a very grateful good-evening.” 

She extended her hand with frank simplicity. Sir 
Gilbert grasped it warmly and then bent his white head 
over it with old-fashioned courtliness. 


LITTLE MISS DETECTIVE 


43 


“Madam, I appreciate your confidence, I am over¬ 
whelmed by your gratitude. But neither, I am proud 
to say, is misplaced. I shall yield up my Ward to you 
willingly when your claim is established by proper 
investigation. I would be less worthy of your trust 
were I to relinquish the child I have cared for to the 
first person who saw fit to call him.” 

“Come Hilary, come Jacqueline. Cousin Prudence, 
are you ready?” Jack’s mother asked brightly. 

Cousin Prudence was beyond the state of articula¬ 
tion. If Hilary Wayne was indignant, if little Jac¬ 
queline was disappointed, the warlike old lady had in 
comparison to them reached a point of exasperation 
that rendered speech impossible. She simply glared 
and sniffed her wrath until every bangle and bead 
seemed to palpitate in an unhappy chorus of jangling 
discord. 

Mr. Wayne spoke at last coldly: 

“You mean to leave here, Agnes, without learning 
the fate of our boy? You are content to think him 
in some ‘hiding hole’ in the walls of this house, a 
prisoner?” 

“Mr. Wayne,” Sir Gilbert interrupted briskly— 
“Use reason, my good fellow! Look up my record in 
political, social and private life. It is well known here 
in Washington. I am not a mad-man. Granted I am 
eccentric, but I am not chief villain in a melo-drama. 
As for searching the secret passage which this bright¬ 
eyed little maid has by some strange chance discovered, 
you can not do it, no, not if you bring in the whole 
police force of the District and a posse from old Massa¬ 
chusetts as well. The secrets of this house are my own 
since they are innocent, law-abiding ones. Think mat¬ 
ters over tonight. Cool off. Get the proper data and 
proofs, and meanwhile, rest assured little Jack is safe 
and in the best of hands. Good evening. Let us part 
as friends do,” and the baronet extended his hand. 


44 


JACK 


Hilary Wayne, by nature and breeding a gentleman 
to his fingertips, accepted the proffered hand, mur¬ 
mured a formal leave-taking, turned away, a set look on 
his ordinarily pleasant, boyish face. 

“Good-night, my little lady,” said Sir Gilbert, laying 
his hand on Jacqueline’s dark curly head as she was 
about to follow her mother into the hall. He was 
singularly gentle with children. 

Merry Jacqueline flashed up a smile at him and un¬ 
expectedly halted in her course. Catching his arm 
convulsively in both her warm little hands, she ex¬ 
claimed : 

“Oh, Sir Gilbert, you haven’t put Jackie down in a 
dungeon under this house, have you ? Oh, you haven’t, 
I’m sure. But oh, please, please don’t. Will you ? He’s 
such a nice, funny little boy and I’ve prayed we’d find 
him oh, ever since ever so long. I’ve missed having a 
brother just terribly. You will give him to us soon, 
won’t you? Oh, please, please, please.” 

With each please she gave his arm a little tug and a 
twinkle crept into Sir Gilbert’s eye, a smile began to 
curl the corners of his grave mouth. 

“Jacqueline dearest,” began Mrs. Wayne reproach¬ 
fully, but the old man stayed her remonstrance with 
uplifted finger. 

“Just a moment please, dear Madam,” he said softly. 
“Let this small lady and myself unsnarl this together. 
I have a little grand-daughter of my own but she has 
never, I might say warmed to me. This little maid’s 
ingenuousness is a sweet revelation. I wonder now, my 
little Miss Jacqueline, if I promise faithfully that no 
harm will ever come to your brother while in my care, 
and if I promise that for the formal opening of the 
secret slide which you discovered, you will receive from 
me personally a written invitation to be present, if as 
I say I solemnly promise you these two things, would 


LITTLE MISS DETECTIVE 


45 


you in return call me by Jack’s own name for me,— 
Grandy-dad ? Do you think you could ?” 

“Could I, could I ? oh, your dear, precious Sir Gilbert 
—I mean, Grandy-dad. I’ve always wanted a Grandpa. 
I love you heaps. Oh, Daddy, he isn’t hiding Jack in a 
dungeon I know it, I know it. Mumpie, he’s just like 
you said, good and kind. I’d love to call you Grandy- 
dad and when we take Jack home with us, you must 
come too. Oh, goody—goody!” 

She was whirling around excitedly when a new 
thought popped into her lively brain.—“Oh, when will 
the slide be opened ? At a party ? Oh, how g-r-a-n-d!” 

“When? Oh, in a month.” 

“Hurrah,—Hurrah! May I come to Sir Gilbert’s 
party, Mumpie?” 

“Most certainly, dear, but now calm down. You are 
wildly happy dearest and over excited. Bid Sir Gilbert 
good-night courteously.” 

Jacqueline seemed to be abruptly transformed into 
a perfectly correct and formal little lady. She extended 
her hand quietly to Sir Gilbert, smiled at him sweetly 
and made her farewell most gracefully. 

Sir Gilbert then addressed Cousin Prudence, but she 
flounced indignantly past the attending butler, out the 
door and down the steps to her waiting car. As the re¬ 
mainder of the party followed her, the old baronet 
spoke once more from the doorway: 

“Good-night, little Jacqueline,” he said. 

Swiftly the child turned, kissed her hand and called 
back joyously: 

“Good-night, Grandy-dad.” 

“Ah!” said the old gentleman sharply and turned 
back to his study, his fine old face softened into a 
tenderness that was pathetic. 

“Daddy, don’t you trust him now ? Isn’t he lovely ?” 
beseeched Jacqueline 

“Oh, yes,—he is absolutely delicious,” growled Hilary 


46 


JACK 


Wayne sarcastically and then suddenly meeting his 
wife’s eye, he smiled ruefully and finally laughed. Once 
seated in the machine, however, he drew his little girl 
on to his knee and said tenderly: 

“Daddy is out of sorts, sweetheart. Your new friend 
rubs him the wrong way but I trust mother’s intuition 
and yours, and I will growl no more until I get the 
proofs of my son’s identity and flash them in your 
precious old English Lordship’s face.” 

“You are all a parcel of simpletons. I wash my hands 
of you from this day forth,” snorted an indignant 
feminine voice just at this moment. 

Mr. Wayne and Jacqueline burst into a gale of irre¬ 
pressible mirth and Mrs. Wayne stooping forward, pat¬ 
ted the irate old lady’s hand and said sweetly: 

“But you love us just the same, dear old Pl*udy, 
don’t you ? And just as soon as your hands are washed 
of us, you’ll pick us right up again like the darling soul 
you are.” 

“Laugh if you can,” groaned Miss Prudence—“I see 
nothing but that poor child’s face before me. Oh, oh 
—the last of the Waynes abused, kidnapped, suffering 
I’ll wager, in some dark, damp, gloomy cellar. I am of 
a generation that feels, sympathizes, loves.”—Then 
Miss Prudence began to weep and all three companions 
were kept busy comforting her until the motor rolled 
up to the entrance of the hotel at which they were 
stopping. 

It was soon Jacqueline’s bed-time. Early hours and 
an athletic, outdoor life had doubtless much to do with 
the little girl’s breezy, wholesome charm. 

She was a favorite with her odd, elderly Cousin 
Prudence and on this particular evening when Mrs. 
Wayne went into Jacqueline’s small room, Miss Pru¬ 
dence who had been in a morose mood since their re¬ 
turn from Sir Gilbert’s, rose, too, and hobbled in after 
her. 


LITTLE MISS DETECTIVE 


47 


The little girl was missing. 

“Dearest, where are you?” called Mrs. Wayne. 

“Up to some nonsense, you may be sure,” scolded 
Miss Prudence. “Hiding likely as not and sheTl hop 
out at once and send one’s heart up into her throat. 
I don’t like it Agnes. I don’t like it at all,” but in spite 
of her complaint the old lady put up her lorgnette and 
began peering around curiously for the mad-cap. 

“Here I am, Mumpie. Here I am, Prudy,” called a 
muffled voice. 

From the closet it came and from the depths of Miss 
Jacqueline’s trunk. The sheen of a soft pink kimona 
was about all that was visible and two pink slippered 
feet. Jacqueline was burrowing into the trunk vigor¬ 
ously. To the right and left around her trailed evi¬ 
dences of her quest. Dainty garments, bits of lace, 
gay ribbons, doll clothes, girlish trinkets.— 

“Darling, what are you looking for,” questioned her 
mother in bewilderment. 

Jacqueline wriggled out of the trunk and hastened 
to explain: 

“Mumpie, I’d forgotten all about tomorrow. It’s 
May Day, you know. I just must have my May altar 
even though we are traveling. I am trying to find some 
nice lace and ribbons and crepe paper and all. And 
I was so afraid my sweet statue might be broke, but 
it isn’t. It came safe as can be. Nora packed it. That’s 
why. Oh—oh, I’m so glad I remembered in time. I 
never would want Our Lady to think I forgot to crown 
her Queen of May. Isn’t my statue lovely, Prudy? 
It’s the one you sent me from Italy. Do you remember 
it?” 

Cousin Prudence found herself suddenly gazing at 
an exquisite piece of pure Carrara marble, at a statue 
about a foot in height and of wonderful artistic beauty. 
Into her quizzical old face smiled from the pure white 
stone, another woman’s face. It was girlish, it was 


48 


JACK 


womanly, it was tender, it was compelling, it was holy 
and marvelously fair. All this can a piece of marble be 
when it represents Mary, the Mother of God. 

Miss Prudence smiled down at the eager child and 
said in her gentlest voice, reserved only for this partic¬ 
ular favorite of hers, “you've taken good care of it, my 
dear. I’m glad you are so fond of it." 

“Oh, I am, I am! Please come now and help us, 
Mumpie and me. I do so want my altar fixed before I 
go to bed. How many minutes have I, Mumpie ? And 
oh, may I light it up and will you all sing just one hymn 
with me? Oh-oh-oh, goody-goody! Mumpie, see, 
Prudy is going to help, too. Isn't she the precious old 
angel ?" 

And the happy child danced up and down clasping 
her cherished statue tightly in her arms with no whit 
less reverence because of her buoyant temperament. 

“And we'll ask Our Lady, won't we, to please take 
good care of brother Jack and send him home to us 
for keeps very soon?" she continued breathlessly, her 
bright eyes gleaming now like the stars that were smil¬ 
ing so kindly down on Jack and Mr. Bob at that very 
same moment. 

At this point we must leave merry Jacqueline and 
return to our wayfarers, Mr. Bob, little Jack, Kid Car- 
son and Jim, the horse. 


CHAPTER VI 

AROUND THE CAMP FIRE 

Mr. Bob turned from making hungry Jim happy with 
the measure of oats, barely in time to save his cocoa 
pot and the two boys from dire disaster. Both Jack 
and Kid were taking a hand at removing the tin from 
its position above the flames and the result was the 
usual proof of the saying, “too many cooks spoil the 
broth.” 

“Suppose you two youngsters sit down here and be¬ 
have,” said Mr. Bob briskly. “Pm chief cook of this 
and don't care to be relieved of my duties by two such 
green hands. Fall to, boys! Go as far as you like. I 
mean as far as the food goes.” 

“My, but I was hungry,” exclaimed Jack blissfully, 
after he had dispatched one sandwich with lightning 
speed. He reached out for another and smiled across 
at Kid. Something in the other boy's face checked 
Adorable for a moment. 

“Isn't yours any good, Kid?” he demanded in a sur¬ 
prised tone, for Kid sat with his sandwich half gone 
staring off dreamily into space. 

“What's wrong, my boy ?” questioned Mr. Bob. “Too 
much salt, mustard or something? Try another, do. 
Help yourself. You are more than welcome to them 
you know.” 

“Oh! What? Huh,” said Kid jerkily, coming back 
with a start. “You mean the grub? Not good? Why 
—why it's fine. Deedy it is.” Then pitifully, “You uns 
'ud believe me if you knew how hungry I've been heaps 
of times. And if you could see once what I have to 
eat mostly.” 

“Prove it to us by eating now then,” laughed Mr. 

49 


50 


JACK 


Bob, touched to the heart by something in the lad's 
tone, but eager to divert his thoughts. 

“Oh, Mr. Bob," chuckled Jack midway in his third 
sandwich, “I wish we could stay here all night. 
Wouldn't it be swell though to camp out ?" 

“Sorry, but you can't do it this time, old scout," 
anwered his Pal. “Sir Gilbert's orders are that we 
put up for the night at a small hotel a few miles below 
here. What direction do you take, Kid! I mean where 
do you live ?" He added the last question because Kid 
Carson seemed puzzled over the query about direction. 

“Oh—anywheres," Jim's owner replied indifferently, 
his whole attention fixed evidently on the particularly 
plump sandwich which he held in both hands. 

“Anywheres?" repeated Jack eagerly. “Whiz!—are 
you a tramp? —Don't you live in a house ever, Kid? 
My! but you're in luck! Huh, Mr. Bob, isn't he?" 

“What do you mean, youngster?" insisted Mr. Bob, 
kindly but firmly. “Haven't you any people?" 

“Naw," answered Kid shrugging his shoulders. “No 
one 'cept Jim, I useter travel alone but now I've got 
him, see? Ain't I glad? Well, you bet." 

“But you certainly must belong to someone," per¬ 
sisted Mr. Bob. “Why, the government doesn’t allow 
a child like you to roam the country alone, my boy. 
Surely you must have a home, or at least be taken 
care of somewhere ?" 

“I take keer of myself mostly," Kid explained. “Naw, 
I haven’t any folks. Old Pietro was my boss but now 
he's dead and people said the law'd take me and put 
me in a reform school or somethin', so I just tuk to 
my heels and run away." 

Kid told his story in a sort of dull, off-hand way that 
made Adorable's eyes open very wide indeed. He for¬ 
got to eat in his excitement. He just sat and grinned 
at Kid, hugging his knees excitedly and rocking him¬ 
self back and forth. 


AROUND THE CAMP FIRE 


51 


“How did you acquire Jim?” demanded Mr. Bob. 

“Git him, you mean? Oh, that’s funny. Just like 
yoo ’uns asking- me to eat at this party. It all came 
’cause I waited on a lady, brought her flowers and all. 
She sure is nice and a real princess like the other lady 
told me true.” 

“Suppose you tell us all about it, if you wish,” 
suggested Mr. Bob kindly. 

“Uh! Uh! Do! Do!” chimed in Adorable excitedly. 

Kid did not answer immediately but munched his 
sandwich for a second thoughtfully. 

“Aw go on, tell us Kid,” urged Adorable becoming 
restless. 

Kid looked up and smiled. “It was this way. Old 
Pietro died a couple of months ago, and they tuk Cin¬ 
namon and sold him and put the money in the bank 
for me.” 

“Cinnamon? Who’s that?” demanded Mr. Bob with 
interest at high pitch. 

“Yes, yes, tell us who Cinnamon is,” urged Jack. 

“A bear,” responded Kid Carson, quite simply. 

“A bear?” ejaculated Mr. Bob. 

“A bear? A real live bear?” shouted Adorable on 
his hands and knees now, crawling across the paper 
table-cloth in an effort to get close to the story-teller. 

A ruddy gleam from the camp fire fell on Kid’s pale 
but humorous face. It was less pinched and sad now. 
He was smiling as his friends’ interest in his narrative 
deepened. 

“Yep. Cinnamon’s a bear. A trick one, too. A rich 
man bought him for his little boy. Wants to have a 
circus for him on his own grounds and then when the 
boy gets tired of Cinny he’ll give him to the Zoo.” 

“Tired of him ? Guess he’s a funny boy, huh ? Tired 
of a bear!” gasped out Jack. “My, how I wish I could 
have him. Mr. Bob, do you ’spose Grandy-dad would 
get him for me ’fore that man gives him to the Zoo?” 


52 


JACK 


Mr. Bob's gay laugh pealed out so heartily that Kid 
and Jack both joined in just because it was impossible 
to resist its merriment. 

“Poor Sir Gilbert!" Mr. Bob choked out at last. 
“Jack, you mischief, haven’t you any mercy? Do you 
think your Grandy-dad has nothing else to do but buy 
you the earth? Go on Kid, my boy. We are anxious 
to hear all the rest. What happened next?" 

“Oh, I heard the men talking about me down at the 
corner grocery. One said I was a ragamuffin anyhow 
and no one knew nothing ’bout me or my people. Put 
him in a reform school, says he, and I just didn’t wait 
for no more. I skipped just as quick as I could ’fore 
they could do anything to me. I’ve tramped it ever 
since." 

“But, my poor child! Where have you slept and 
how have you managed? Didn’t people along the way 
ask you to whom you belonged and why you were not 
in school ?’’ 

“Oh, yeppie. They asked me heaps of things first 
and I got scared some of them would catch on to my 
running away and ’ud send me back, so I didn’t try to 
get any work to do ’til after school-hours and then 
they just thought I was one of those fellows who do 
errands to get movie money or somethin’ like that, 
see?" 

“I’m afraid I do," said Mr. Bob with a tiny catch in 
his voice that he tried to cough away. 

“Some days I got along great," continued Kid cheerily. 
“Other times I was awful hungry and cold, too. Whiz 
but this Spring’s been fierce. I got caught out in one of 
those rain storms the other night and it made me lame 
all over. That’s how I happened to meet the lady that 
was so good to me and told me all about the other lady 
who’s a princess." 

“Go on, go on," urged Jack as Kid paused for breath. 

“Be patient, Jackie," admonished Mr. Bob. “Kid is 


AROUND THE CAMP EIRE 


53 


really too worn out to sit here telling us his story at 
all.” Then to Kid: 

“Don’t tire yourself, sonny. Rest a bit before you 
tell us any more if you wish. 

“Pshaw! I don’t mind talking,” grinned Kid. “It’s 
fun telling it to you folks. You sure are nice to me,” 
he added appreciatively. “The old lady was, too. I 
was a-laying down in a field in the sunshine trying to 
bake the pain out of me somehow after the awful wet¬ 
ting I got, when I heard something fall and someone 
groan sort of woeful like. Then I heard an old lady’s 
voice say, ‘Oh dear, oh dear, my poor flowers!’ and I 
hopped up quick and went across to the stone wall that 
was around the field and I looked over. In the middle 
of the road was a real nice old lady and she was kind 
of stooped and walked with a cane. She was almost 
a-crying over a big basket of flowers which she had 
been toting on her arm but dropped accidentally and 
there they were tumbled all over the path and out 
into the road. They certain sure were pretty. Lilacs 
and Wisteria vine and pink flowers, too, something like 
honeysuckle and a few roses, too. Just beauties. ‘Don- 
you-fret’ says I quick like. ‘I’ll pick ’em up fer you 
Ma’ma,’ and I did and my, but she was grateful. I 
liked to hear her talk so well that I told her I’d carry 
’em fer her to wherever she was bound for. She perked 
up just fine then and said as how I was a true knight 
and was carrying flowers for her to the house of a lady 
fair, a princess. When we walked on a way we come 
to a church and who do you think was the lady fair, 
the princess?” 

“I think I can guess,” answered Mr. Bob gently. “The 
old lady was preparing to decorate the church for May- 
day. The princess was God’s Mother.” With a fine 
but simple courtliness, Mr. Bob raised his cap as he 
mentioned Her name. 

“Yes,” nodded Kid, observing Mr. Bob’s gesture but 


54 


JACK 


making no mention of it, “The old lady walked up the 
aisle to a little gate in the middle of the fence that goes 
around the altar and I was at her heels, you bet. She 
pointed up to a beautiful statue of a lady in white with 
a blue sash on and says she, ‘Do you know who she is, 
little boy ?’ ‘Sure’ says I, ‘Madonna mia leastways that’s 
what Pietro called Her.’ My, but the old lady hugged 
me then just as tho’ I had pleased her heaps and she 
said as how she hoped Madonna mia would love and 
bless me as her own true knight for carrying her 
flowers and for helping an old lady in distress. ‘Her 
own sweet month dedicated to her by the Church will 
soon be here. ’Tis for it I am getting ready, laddie.’ 
Then after we had worked awhile cleaning the sanc¬ 
tuary she called it, she took me to her house and gave 
me dinner and asked me to come help her again in the 
church and work for her in her garden, too, a couple 
of times a week after school, she told me. I wanted 
to tell her I didn’t go to school but I was afraid to for 
fear she’d want to know why and when she found out 
I ran away she might think I ought to go back. I’d 
go you see if she told me to, but I don’t want ter, not 
for a cent. The day after that I got Jim.” 

“Hurrah!” cheered Jack. “Hurry along Kid. Tell 
us about that quick.” 

“A man was beating him because he got into his 
garden and nibbled the tops off the lettuce and stuff. 
I heard him say ‘You’re not worth your salt. You can’t 
work, you can’t do anything you’re so old,’ and then he 
hit Jim again. ‘Don’t do that,’ I called out across from 
the lane. ‘Who’ll stop me?’ says he. ‘I will,’ says I. 

“Goody, goody!” chuckled Adorable rocking back and 
forth in glee with his two small hands clasping his 
small knees excitedly. 

“‘How?’ says he. ‘If he’s no good to you and eats 
up your stuff give him to me,’ says I. ‘I’d love to have 
him, Mister.’ My but he was hoppin’ mad then. ‘I 


AROUND THE CAMP FIRE 


55 


bought this horse/ he yells out at me 'an I’m not 
likely to give him away; worthless though he is to a 
beggarly chap like you. If you want him buy him/ he 
says next, poking fun at me. My dander was up and 
I wanted Jim. Poor fellow he was scared and shiver¬ 
ing, the man had beat him so hard. I up and said, 
proud-like ‘Yes, I will buy him. I’ve got one hundred 

dollars up in a bank in R-. You go and ask Dr. 

Egan to give it to you and tell him Kid Carson said 
so. But you needn’t tell him where you saw me last/ 
I added, cause I didn’t want Dr. Egan to try and get 
me back. He was nice but he might think like the 
others I needed a reform school.” 

“What did the man say then?” questioned Mr. Bob 
sharply. 

“He stopped jawing and looked at me hard. ‘Oh! 
Ho! So you’re the boy they call Kid Carson that worked 
for the Dago that had the trained bear. So you want 
this good-for-nothin’ horse. All right, sonny, he’s 
yours. I’ll take the hundred for him although it aint 
pay enough. Think the Doctor will give it to me do 
you?’ He winked at me real jolly then and I said, 
‘sure but don’t tell him where I am headed for, please.’ 
And sure enough, he let me take Jim and I’ve been so 
happy the last two days. Jim is too. I begged oats 
for him from the farmers near by. Then tonight we 
met you ’uns. Madonna mia is sure a blessing of me, 
aint she?” 

Kid finished his story with a happy, questioning 
smile at both auditors. 

“Kid,” said Mr. Bob, gently when the story was 
ended, “how far is it from here where your old lady 
friend lives?” 

“ ’Bout a mile and a half,” answered Kid. “I’ve got 
to go back and help her tomorrow. It’s the day she 
set. Madonna mia’s day you know, May first, I’d like 




Soon Jim—his front feet planted securely in the centre of the newspaper tablecloth 
was dispatching greedily the few scraps and crumbs that had been left. 






























AROUND THE CAMP FIRE 


57 


to push on now Eve got Jim but a promise is a promise 
aint it, so I've got to keep my word. Huh?" 

“Yes, indeed," insisted Mr. Bob gravely. 

“Can't Kid and Jim ride along with us, Mr. Bob?" 
demanded Jack. 

The idea of poor Jim trying to keep pace with a 
motorcycle as a traveling companion upset Mr. Bob's 
gravity utterly. He threw back his head and laughed 
heartily. Kid joined in with a shrill little cackle and 
Jack asked indignantly: 

“What are you all laughing at anyway?" 

“Even Jim is laughing, see," teased Mr. Bob, “at the 
idea of making him a racer." 

And sure enough, poor old Jim came slowly into the 
circle around the camp fire at this moment and the 
flames leaping up made fantastic shapes everywhere 
even on Jim's staid and peaceful face. Immediately 
Jack’s own cheery chuckle rippled out involuntarily. 

Encouraged doubtless by such universal good fellow¬ 
ship, Jim snuffed the air and ambled nearer to the 
remains of the feast. Soon his front feet were planted 
securely in the centre of the newspaper table-cloth and 
he was dispatching greedily the few scraps and crumbs 
that had been left. 

Another gale of merriment from all three pealed 
out gayly. 

“Jim sure has an appetite," remarked Kid regret¬ 
fully. “I don’t know how I'll ever get him fodder 
enough, that's a fact." 

“Don't worry," said Mr. Bob kindly, patting Jim 
with one hand and extending the other to Kid. “I think 
I can help you a bit, old chap. I’ve a plan in my head 
for you now." 

“Oh, hurrah, Kid! You’re all right then. So's Jim. 
Mr. Bob's plans are all nifty. Hurry up and tell us 
what this one is, please Mr. Bob," broke in eager Jack. 


CHAPTER VII 


KID LOSES JIM 

Before Mr. Bob would give even the slightest clue 
to his plan, however, he insisted that both boys help 
stamp out the camp fire and pack up the cooking kit. 
This was done to the jolly tunes of laughter and chaf¬ 
fing, Jack adding much to the hilarity by tripping over 
a bramble and precipitating himself straight into the 
center of the dying embers. 

“Excellent fire extinguisher, Jackie. Thank you,” 
teased Mr. Bob, pulling him to his feet again with a 
playful tug. 

Kid Carson laughed merrily over this excitement 
and strange to say from a dry cackle his laugh had 
grown suddenly into a thing of tinkling sound. Poor 
Kid's mirth had been so long without expression that 
it really was a delightful relief as well as surprise to 
him to have it bubble out so free and joyous a thing 
at last. 

“Now," said Mr. Bob triumphantly, “everything is 
ship-shape. Kid, do you suppose Jack and you can 
squeeze into place in here?" He patted the boat equip¬ 
ment on his cycle invitingly. 

“Sure, sure. Come ahead, let's show him!" exclaimed 
Adorable blithely, hurrying over to Mr. Bob's side. 

For an instant Kid's pale face glowed, his blue eyes 
under their long lashes gleamed with eagerness, then 
he paused on his way across the sward. 

“I can't go with you 'uns nohow. I've got Jim to look 
out fer. He couldn't keep up with that flivver and I 
ain't going to leave him behind." 

He turned back to his horse and laid one slim young 
hand protectingly on Jim's bony side. 

58 


KID LOSES JIM 


59 


“You're not going to desert Jim, never fear sonny," 
soothed Mr. Bob. “You must leave him here for to¬ 
night because he cannot travel along with us. But he 
will not stray away. He will graze in the field yonder 
and tomorrow you can come back and get him after 
I arrange matters, if I can, to make you a permanent 
lodger with your kind old lady." 

“Leave Jim?" ejaculated Kid in dire distress. “Nix, 
Mister, nothing doing." As he stood by his horse 
a straight, determined, delicate little figure, Mr. Bob 
appraised him admiringly. Here were true American 
grit, courage and dogged self-reliance, all in one small 
boy's puny body. 

“Bravo, youngster!" cheered Mr. Bob. 

“Good for you, Kid!" chuckled Adorable—“Say, I 
tell you what though," he rattled on in headlong fash¬ 
ion—“You go along with Mr. Bob in the cycle basket, 
Kid, and let me follow after on Jim. I can ride can't 
I, Mr. Bob? Oh, I say, please kin I, can I—oh—jim- 
miny, may I, I mean ?" 

Kid looked at Jack pleasantly but shook his head. 
“No, you uns go along. Don’t mind me. Jim and I 
will manage all right and I'll show up at the old lady's 
tomorrow. You tell her for me as you go by, will yer ?" 

But Mr. Bob was thinking hard. “Kid," he said at 
last impressively, “I have every reason in the world to 
think that this dear old lady friend of yours is my 
mother. Naturally I want to see you safe under her 
wing before I go forward on my journey with Jack. 
I intended to stop off tonight and steal a peep at mother 
as we passed. Now I will have a double errand for I 
want to leave you with her until I can trace your past 
history and make some sensible plans for your future. 
I couldn't leave any child that crossed my path alone 
and unbefriended. I like youngsters too well for that. 
Trust yourself to me, will you Kid?" 


60 


JACK 


Looking up into Mr. Bob’s kind, honest eyes, Kid’s 
small face flushed with pleasure. “Trust you, Mister? 
Surest thing you know. But I can’t go along with you 
and leave Jim, I’m afeered of losing him, you see. I’ll 
follow after though and I’ll get to the old lady’s if it 
takes me all night. She’s your mother? Say, ain’t 
that swell? I thought it was funny meeting two dif¬ 
ferent folks that were both alike. Kind and all, I 
mean. He’s fine, too,” nodding at Jack. “Is he your 
kid brother?” 

“No, indeed,” laughed the man. “He’s my little chum 
though and we are sworn friends through thick and 
thin.” 

“Me, too,” assented Kid solemnly. “My but you’re 
some feller! Ain’t he?” he said addressing Jack who 
up to this moment had with difficulty held his peace. 

In the last few seconds Adorable had evidently been 
thinking hard. He smiled assent to Kid’s enthusiasm 
over Mr. Bob but he turned abruptly to the man him¬ 
self and exclaimed remorsefully: 

“Mr. Bob, if I didn’t go and forget something! I 
can’t push on to see young Gil or your mother or no 
one. I’ve got to go right back to Grandy-dad’s. My 
mother is there you know and she’ll be waiting for me. 
I never said good-bye to her or anything. Just skipped 
off with you and forgot.” 

Sturdy Adorable was pitiful in his contrition over 
his thoughtlessness. Mrs. Wayne’s hungry arms would 
have closed around him tenderly could she have been 
there to see his sober freckled face and despondent little 
figure. Mr. Bob gave the child one swift, keen glance 
out of the searching depths of his clear, honest eyes 
and then smiled with a sudden glad relief. 

“Good for you, little pal,” he exclaimed warmly, put¬ 
ting both hands on Jack’s shoulders. “I sure am pleased 
that you remembered that dear little lady at last. She 
was so keen to see you as soon as she arrived today, 


KID LOSES JIM 


61 


believed so earnestly that you were her little long-lost 
son, my sympathies went out to her straightway. I 
hated to undertake this trip, much as I admire Sir 
Gilbert and respect his orders. It seems cruel some¬ 
how to be smuggling you away from her, no matter 
for how short a time.” 

“But Fm not going any further, don’t you worry!” 
averred Adorable doggedly—“I’m a-going back to her 
right now. Oh, I say, can’t you come too, Kid?” He 
went over eagerly to his new friend who was leaning 
against Jim, rubbing the old horse’s neck gently and 
watching Mr. Bob and his small pal with interested, 
grave blue eyes. 

“He can and will come with us,” broke in Mr. Bob 
determinedly, “but it must be forward not backward, 
Jackie. No, dear,” he continued softening his voice 
winningly as he saw a plucky flush of resistance ris¬ 
ing swiftly to Adorable’s cheek and brow, “we cannot 
turn back no matter how much we wish to. Our su¬ 
perior officer has commanded and we must obey. You 
see that yourself. How about it, youngster?” 

“You mean Grandy-dad, don’t you?” demanded Ador¬ 
able. “He won’t care if I go back, Mr. Bob, long-as-I- 
want-to. I don’t want to ’specially. I’d heaps rather 
go on and see Gil but I’m afraid my mother might go 
away and then I’d lose her again.” 

“Huh! mothers don’t go away,” broke in Kid, speak¬ 
ing as one with experience. “They stay home and wait 
fer yer, long as they live. Yours won’t run away. Why, 
where’d she run to anyhow?” 

“I never saw her,” explained Jack hastily, “until to¬ 
day. I’ve been lost you see, since I was a baby. Grandy- 
dad found me when I was two years old.” 

“Lost?” echoed Kid. “That’s funny now, ain’t it? 
So was I. The Carsons found me a-crying on their door¬ 
step when I was a little kid and no folks ever turned 
up to say they was mine.” 


62 


JACK 


“What?” broke in Mr. Bob sharply. “Why, you poor 
little chap! You have been knocked around sure 
enough. So your name is not Carson then. What is 
it ? Do you know, Kid ?” 

“Sure I do, leastways, Marm Carson told me that 
there was a name inside a gold ring I had on when 
they found me. Want to see it ? Huh ?” 

Kid was fumbling at the collar of his ragged shirt. 
“I wear it round my neck on a string but the writing’s 
most worn off. I know it by heart though. There!” 

In the moonlight the small tramp who had stumbled 
in upon our travelers so accidentally, swung aloft for 
both to see, a tiny golden band, a veritable baby’s ring. 
With natural boyish curiosity, Jack bounded forward 
shouting: 

“Let me see it, Kid. Let me look.” 

“Sure, help yourself,” replied Kid graciously. Then 
smiling half shamefacedly up at Mr. Bob he added: 

“Seems funny to think I ever wore a gold ring, don’t 
it? I ain’t ever had one on since, yer kin’ jus’ bet your 
life.” 

Mr. Bob was as interested as Jack. He took the 
trinket in his strong fingers and turned it back and 
forth trying to decipher the lettering, originally so 
fine and delicate as to have been easily erased by time 
and friction. 

“What does it say, Kid ?” he queried. “Nothing that 
ever helped the Carsons to find your own people for 
you ?” 

“Just a name, that’s all,” answered Kid with supreme 
unconcern. “ ’Twasn’t any name they’d ever heard 
tell of and they never did nothin’ about it anyhow. Just 
tuk care of me until Marm Carson died and then Pietro 
asked old Carson to let him take me. Pietro was fine 
but I didn’t like Carson.” 

“What was the name?” persisted Mr. Bob. “With 
such a clew those people should have looked up your 


KID LOSES JIM 


63 


family immediately. Perhaps we can help you find 
your people even now. I’m interested in lost children, 
particularly on Jack’s account.” 

“It was a short name,” said Kid in his easy, quiet 
way. “Didn’t sound like much of anything old Carson 
said. It was John Wayne.” 

“What!” shouted Mr. Bob, wide-eyed, wholly off 
guard. “What did you say ?” 

“Why, Kid, that’s my name, too,” laughed Adorable. 
“Anyhow, it was Jack Gilbert but today Annette told 
me that the lady who’s my mother is Mrs. Wayne 
and that now I was her boy, I’d be Jack Wayne instead 
of Jack Gilbert. Wow!” chuckled Adorable suddenly 
overcome by a deliciously funny thought. “Bet-cher 
we’re twins, Kid. Hip-hip, hurrah!” 

Jack’s uproar completely amazed mild, old Jim who 
at this point gave vent to his feelings by a soft, plain¬ 
tive whinny. Kid continued to caress him even while 
laughing at Jack’s nonsense. 

Mr. Bob stood for a second as one dazed by a sudden 
blinding flash of lightning but at last, bit by bit, the 
pieces of Kid Carson’s story began to take place and 
form within his brain. Then with a bound his heart 
seemed to leap into his throat. Mr. Bob was devoted 
to his employer, the eccentric old nobleman, he loved 
young Jack with the affection of an elder brother. What 
if after all the Waynes were mistaken, as Sir Gilbert 
had seemed to think? What if Jack was not their 
child but that this other boy was, this little waif of 
the woodland, Kid ? No wonder Mr. Bob’s spirits soared 
high for a moment. This discovery would mean every¬ 
thing to Sir Gilbert. His heart was completely wrapped 
up in Adorable. To be free to keep him safe within his 
guardianship away from all other claimants meant per¬ 
fect happiness to the old man. 

And for Jack? Mr. Bob drew a long, happy breath 
of relief, the first real one since he had been commis- 


64 


JACK 


sioned on this errand. Why, of course, Jack would 
prefer things as they were. Lucky youngster that he 
was, darling of an idolizing guardian, heir under the 
name given him in legal adoption, Jack Gilbert, to a 
princely inheritance, his childhood, meanwhile, rich in 
everything that love and interest could bestow on happy 
boyhood, what more could be desired for him ? 

But then—swift and keen and clear across Mr. Bob’s 
vision, flashed Mrs. Wayne’s face as she had looked 
when she walked into the library with her arms around 
little Jack that afternoon! Was Jack her boy or was 
lonely little Kid the happy owner of such a mother ? 

A shout from Kid roused the young man from his 
confusing thoughts rather abruptly. 

“Come back here. That’s not fair. Oh, I say, come 
back.” 

Kid’s last command was almost an appeal so pitiful 
was its note. When Mr. Bob “came to” so to speak, 
he was just in time to see the small “tramp” stumbling 
forward with arms extended but with small fists clinch¬ 
ed. He was headed straight for the road-way. As for 
Jack and Jim, neither was visible to Mr. Bob’s aston¬ 
ished eye. 

“Here, here Kid my boy, what’s the matter?” de¬ 
manded the young man. “Where’s your horse ? Don’t 
worry if he has run away, we’ll catch him fast enough. 
Jack! Jack! Where are you? Hurry. We must start.” 

Mr. Bob was about to hasten on to his cycle in order 
to get it in readiness for the road once more when 
Kid interrupted his progress with: 

“He’s gone off on my Jim. Say Mister, that wasn’t 
fair of him, now was it?” 

“Gone off on Jim? Who went off on Jim?” asked Mr. 
Bob in bewilderment, wondering meanwhile, how he 
could ever have been preoccupied enough to have missed 
observing such wild excitement as had evidently been 
going on around him. 


KID LOSES JIM 


65 


“That boy—Jack,” moaned Kid. “I didn’t tell him 
he could ride my horse. He just climbed up like a-a—” 

“Monkey, Kid,” laughed Mr. Bob ruefully. “Oh, 
that’s Jack all right. I can see him at it now. And be¬ 
fore you could say quit, he had dug his heels into old 
Dobbin, I mean Jim, and was off. Come on, we’ll fix 
that in no time. Clamber in here and we’ll fly after 
him. He hasn’t the ghost of a chance of a get away, 
old Dobbin’s too slow.” 

“He made him gallop,” affirmed Kid resentfully. 
“Jim took to his heels and went like a shot. I didn’t 
guess he could run so fast.” 

“You don’t know Jack. I do,” remarked Mr. Bob 
dryly. “Come on though. Don’t fret, old scout. Jack’s 
a rogue but not a mean one. He isn’t stealing your 
horse. He’s just trying to put a prank over on me. 
No wonder I have gray hairs.” 

“But you haven’t,” remarked Kid literally, with a 
wide-eyed glance at Mr. Bob’s curly dark hair. 

“Climb in,” laughed the man. “One—two—three, 
we’re off. Master will have a reckoning hour in the 
twinkling of an eye.” 

The motorcycle swept once more out on to the broad 
highway with the same man at the wheel, but with 
a little white faced, worried-looking boy in the side car 
in place of ruddy, smiling Jack. 

“I know he won’t steal Jim, Mister,” said Kid hoarse¬ 
ly as they flew along trying to pierce the shadows 
ahead for a glimpse of naughty Jack and Jim. “But I 
just sort of hate to have Jim out of my sight.” His 
voice broke a little. Kid Carson wasn’t rugged enough 
for the life he was obliged to lead. Anyone tender of 
children could readily see that. 

Mr. Bob gave the boy a gay, but at the same time, 
pitying glance. 

“Cheer up, Kid. How’s the cycling for a change ? Like 
it?” 


66 


JACK 


“Oh, you bet,” replied Kid eagerly. “But I can't 
get Jim off my mind. Say, Mister where are they ? We 
oughter have caught up to them by now.” 

“Jack!” yelled Mr. Bob sharply, sternly. Then he 
sent the shriek of his horn out as a herald but only 
the breezes answered him, and as far ahead as they 
could see was no Jack nor Jim. Around a corner they 
chugged swiftly—“Ah, what's that ?” said Mr. Bob. 

“That couldn't be Jim no-how, could it Mister?” 

Beat, beat, beat, from far ahead rang back to them 
the swift trot of a horse's flying feet. On the summer 
air also rang out a joyous yell. Mr. Bob recognized it 
instantly. It was Jack's shout of absolute glee when 
at the height of any frolic. 

“My boy, your old Jim has at some time in his life 
been a racer there isn't a doubt. The Adorable One 
has awakened him tonight to memories of some of his 
past sprints. They are making merry together. But 
we'll catch them in a second. Jack is a natural born 
rider, so don't fret about either one of them. Jim will 
never lose his pep again after this experience, I’ll 
wager. He'll be worth all you paid for him, youngster 
—Ah! ha! Here we are.”— 

Before Mr. Bob's encouraging speech was finished, 
the cycle had overtaken the runaways, but unfortunate¬ 
ly Jim, now all fire and spirit, took alarm at the machine 
and tore on again, while in the moonlight Jack’s face 
glowed back at them delightedly for a second over one 
shoulder. 

“Jack! Hold tight but turn him around! Bring him 
back!” Swift and clear swept out Mr. Bob's curt orders. 

“Yeppie,” came back the jolly answer but beat, beat, 
beat flew onward Jim’s old feet unfettered at last after 
many years. Years of such monotonous drudgery that 
they must have seemed to the old race horse unendur- 
ably long, so far did they remove him from the glory 
of his youth and the glorious “sport of kings.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


RAVEN AND SKYLARK 

“Mister,” said Kid mournfully, “My Jim’s lost sure 
as shootin.’ That chap’s so small Jim’ll shake him off 
his back easy as nothin’ and then he’ll gallop along to 
land’s end. I’ll never set eyes on him no more.” 

In the soft moonlight Mr. Bob smiled roguishly down 
on his little friend. 

“Shake Jack off! Who will? Jim? Have another 
guess Kid, my boy. You surely don’t know Jack. 
He’ll cling to that horse like a chestnut-burr. Jim will 
soon be glad to turn around and trot back to meet 
us. They are just having one last gay canter before 
their frolic ends. Jim is not quite so young as he used 
to be and will tire quite suddenly, wait and see.” 

“Ain’t we agoin’ to follow them no more, Mister?” 
the lad asked wistfully. 

“Better not,” cautioned Mr. Bob. “The sound of the 
motor bothered Jim. He thought we were chasing him 
to do harm evidently. We’ll stop here a bit and wait 
for them.” 

“Meanwhile, the Adorable one was chuckling de¬ 
lightedly, as he lay prone on Jim’s broad back and 
skimmed along through the cool, fragrant darkness. 
One small strong hand was in Jim’s strangling mane, 
the other arm was thrown around the horse’s neck as 
far as he could reach. With his knees he was holding 
fast to Jim’s lean sides triumphantly. His laughing 
face was pressed close to the horse’s neck. The merry 
child voice was chirping into the old racer’s keen ear. 

“Good boy, Jim!” 


67 


68 


JACK 


“Some trot, I'll say!” 

“Fine fellow! Good Jim!” 

“Steady oP boy!” 

“Rest up!” 

“Slow down!” 

“Whoa, whoa! Easy there, whoa!” 

And sure enough, Jim obeyed him, halting at last so 
abruptly that a less wary young rider than Jack might 
have been tossed straight over his head into the way- 
side brook at which Jim had evidently decided to 
quench his thirst after his mad race. 

Nimbly, Adorable slid down on to the grassy path 
and talked on in the cheery, confidential, trustful way 
that horses must like, since none had thus far ever 
been able to withstand Jack’s overtures of friendship. 

“Some nice ride, we’ve had, haven’t we, Jim? My, 
but you can go! I didn’t know you could. No sir-ee! 
We’ll try again some day, huh? Had enough water? 
Wait for me. I’ll get a drink too. Just a second, old 
Jim.” 

At the friendly pat the small hands gave his quiver¬ 
ing neck and frame, Jim whinnied softly and then 
stood patiently while the boy who had awakened within 
his poor tired body old-time possibilities went down on 
hands and knees and plunged his merry lips into the 
sparkling waters. At last Jack sat back on his heels, 
his cap pushed well off his jolly freckled face and his 
lips still wet from his hasty drink, and said: 

“Good water? Huh, Jim? Let’s go back now to Mr. 
Bob and Kid. Whee-ee!” chuckling happily. “Betcher 
they’re hopping. Come on, ol’ horse! I’m getting up. 
Steady now! Hippity, I’m ready, Jim. Go it! I say!” 

But though Jim’s limbs quivered as the child 
scrambled up in the nimble way that had brought back 
old memories a short time ago, the poor fellow was 
too weary now to gallop. He tried to trot but in vain. 
He neighed plaintively. 


RAVEN AND SKYLARK 


69 


Adorable seemed to understand. He patted his steed 
encouragingly. 

“You did fine, Jim. Yes, you did! You're tired now. 
Walk all you wanter. I don't mind. You bet I don't. 
Good ol' Jim." 

And thus they came back through the shadowy arch 
of trees to their fellow travelers. Kid saw them first 
and shot out into the roadway with a shrill shout of 
joy. He made a picture as he stood slim and ragged 
with arms outstretched to the returning Jim. Moon¬ 
beams filtered down through the branches of the trees 
spangling with little splashes of silver his tattered 
raiment. One particularly beautiful shaft of light fell 
full on his up-turned face. 

Mr. Bob, still puzzling over the question of Kid's 
identity, saw this effect and gave a smothered sort of 
exclamation. For the moment, his delicate face aglow 
with uncontrollable joy, Kid Carson was the living, 
breathing image of little Jacqueline Wayne. Then the 
man caught a glimpse of Jack’s merry face searching 
for him half expectant of reprimand. There was no 
resemblance in that ruddy, mischievous, small counte¬ 
nance to any of the Waynes whom Mr. Bob had met. 
He felt like throwing up his arms and giving a shout of 
relief and gladness. Sir Gilbert was right after all! 
He need not lose his boy. Mr. Bob bit his teeth down 
on an exclamation of joy that nearly escaped. He 
marched out to the trio under the trees with a half 
stern, half joking sally. 

“Well, Adorable one, what say you, sir! Sorry, eh? 
You gave poor Kid some anxious moments. Apologize 
like a gentleman, you scapegrace." 

“Anxious? What for Kid?" demanded Jack. “Didn't 
I tell you I could ride? Why, Grandy-dad had Tim 
Fergus teach me ever so long ago. Tim Fergus is our 
groom now but he used to be a famous jockey. There 
isn't much about horses that Tim doesn’t know either." 


70 


JACK 


Jack slid down and strutted over to Kid with the 
air of one well satisfied with himself and the world in 
general. 

“Oh, you've driven him hard," exclaimed Kid hoarse¬ 
ly. “That was mean of you. So it was. Why, he's 
foaming at the mouth. Poor, poor Jim!" 

“Foaming? Shucks!" said Jack disdainfully. “That's 
water. Silly. He had a drink down the road there. 
So did I. My mouth was wet, too, but I wiped it dry. 
Jim couldn't, could you ol’ Jim? Tell him you’re not 
foaming. Tell him we had a good time and I treated 
you right." 

At each command Adorable, standing on tiptoe, pat¬ 
ted Jim's neck and then stooping down looked up 
straight into the horse’s eyes with merry twinkles in 
his own. 

That Jim liked the scape-grace there wasn’t a doubt. 
He whinnied softly, affectionately each time Jack spoke 
and finally rubbed his rough, rusty black head against 
the child’s shoulder. 

Kid proved himself a fair-minded little gentleman 
by taking back his accusations immediately. 

“Jim’s fond of you," he said softly. “So you weren’t 
mean to him and I thank you. You see I never did own 
nothin’ ever, ever before. Seems like that’s why I’m 
so scary to have anything happen to Jim." 

“There, there, you boys will have to settle your 
scores some other time," broke in Mr. Bob’s voice pleas¬ 
antly but decidedly. “I have work to do that calls 
me on my way without further parley. Kid, I can 
see that love or money couldn’t induce you to separate 
yourself from Jim tonight, so Jack and I will speed 
ahead to Mother’s and you will follow us as rapidly as 
possible on your charger, won’t you, my boy? I have 
your word, eh?" 

Mr. Bob placed both hands on the waif’s thin shoul¬ 
ders and forced the boy’s eyes (blue eyes, set far apart 


RAVEN AND SKYLARK 


71 


in a sensitive face) to meet his own candid gaze 
squarely. 

“Yes, sir. You sure have,” answered Kid simply. 
‘Til come along to my old lady’s as fast as my Jim 
can bring me but I reckon he’ll not trot for me as 
he did for him over yonder,” jerking his thumb in 
Jack’s direction and giving what might be called a 
ghost of a grin. 

“Good!” commended Mr. Bob heartily. He was 
pleased to see Kid’s sincerity of manner and slow but 
sure progress towards jovial boyishness. 

“Walk back a bit with Jim in among the trees until 
we get started,” he cautioned. “The poor old fellow 
seems to hate the sound of my good steed’s trusty 
chug-chug.” 

“Yes, sir, thanky. Guess I will,” agreed Kid. “Come 
Jim,” he called, “come along o’ me.” 

Jim patiently obeyed him. 

At last the whir of the cycle starting once more on 
its way hummed for an instant on the soft night air. 
From the roadside meadow whither Kid had led his 
horse, the little wanderer peered out through a lattice 
work of stubby bushes at the departing travelers. His 
eyes were a bit wistful. The two had been so friendly 
to him, he dreaded to see them go. Why, he could not 
explain even to himself. Wasn’t he going to meet 
them again within an hour? Perhaps it was the hard 
school of constant loss and disappointment through 
which Kid had passed, that left its impress of dread 
always on his very sensitive young heart. But hark! 
What dread or loneliness could withstand the cheery 
shout that peeled out as Mr. Bob and Jack sped onward. 

“So long, Kid! Come soon!” That was Adorable’s 
gay farewell. 

Then—“Au revoir, my boy. I’ll be waiting for you,” 
rang Mr. Bob’s kind call. 

Kid’s whole, lonely, little heart went out to the man 


72 


JACK 


in silent but worshipful gratitude though all he was 
able to say was a husky-voiced: 

“Bye fellers. Jim and me will race yer mebbe.” 

Two merry laughs floated back to him appreciative 
of his brave attempt at banter. At this same moment 
Jim raised his head from the soft, damp grass he had 
been nibbling and neighed as though he, too, under¬ 
stood that this was an occasion that called for an ex¬ 
pression of regard. 

“Good-ol-J-i-m!” Adorable’s last yell trailed back 
from afar off. 

Then a sudden desolate silence settled down over the 
meadow, the deserted road and the two strays, Jim 
and Kid. 

“Come on, Jim. We’ll go too, fast as we kin after 
them,” said Kid, eagerly. 

“Oh, no you won’t, my fine lad,” interrupted a 
threatening voice at his elbow. “You’ll just come along 
with me.” 

The boy jumped at the sound so unexpected, so 
harsh, following so abruptly upon Mr. Bob’s protecting 
friendliness. Then he looked up to see bending over 
him with extended hand perilously near his ragged 
shoulder, the man of all men he had dreaded from his 
babyhood, old Carson’s brother, a sort of ne’er do well. 

Sturdily the boy backed away spurred into action by 
absolute terror and dislike. 

“Don’t yer touch me,” he croaked hoarsely. “Yer 
can’t make me go with yer. Yer can’t. Come Jim!” 

Catching the horse’s mane he tried to dart through 
the opening by which Jim and he had entered the 
meadow a few moments before. The man laughing 
grimly, blocked the way. 

“Can’t I though?” he jeered. 

Kid looked about wildly. He could scuttle away 
through the brush into temporary safety but that 
meant leaving Jim. Oh-what, what could he do that 


RAVEN AND SKYLARK 


73 


might spell escape for them both? Jed Carson was 
too rough a man to trifle with. Kid had learned that 
in baby days darkened by memories of this desperado’s 
visits to Carson’s cottage. 

“Ha-Ha, want to shake all your old friends, hey? 
Great chap you are,” scoffed the man. 

Kid did not answer him for a new danger threatened. 
Jim in sharp alarm had suddenly, at the stranger’s 
harsh laugh, tossed up his head, pricked up his ears 
and shot like a bolt of lightning through the bushes 
on to the road. Thud, thud, thud, the old racer was 
off again in another mad flight, spurred on his way by 
a dread that poor Kid feared would goad him to efforts 
beyond his strength. 

But there was no time to lose. Since Jim had taken 
matters into his own control, Kid was free to make 
a dash for liberty unfettered by protecting love for his 
horse. Jed Carson was watching him warily. 

The boy sprang up on a pile of old rock lying near 
and before the man could prevent, caught the over¬ 
hanging branch of a tree. It was his one hope of 
escape and he took it unquestionably. With his light 
weight the branch flew up far enough to enable Kid 
to catch a higher one and secure a surer foot-hold. 

“Think you’ll make a get-away do you, yonker? Well, 
two can play at that game,” threatened Jed. Long 
limbed as he was it was an easy matter for him to 
swing himself up into a notch of the same tree. One 
cruel hand reached up and grasped Kid’s foot. 

With a shrill scream and a sudden loss of all realiza¬ 
tion of danger, save that which lay below him in the 
shape of Jed Carson, Kid wrenched his foot free and 
made a mad flying leap for the branch of a tree arch¬ 
ing the road-way from the opposite side. 

Unexpectedly, the honk of a motor horn sounded. 
There was the glare from a powerful search-light, a 
muttered call from Carson: 


74 


JACK 


“Boy, be keerful. You’re crazy as a loon sure 
enough.” 

Then the sickening sound of leaves slipping from a 
clutching hand, a little cry, a sweep of a small body 
through the air, the rushing of a powerful machine 
in the road below, a dull thud, a moan and the sound 
of crashing brakes and many voices. 

“Oh, Daddy-Daddy, I’m killed. I know I am. Come 
here this minute. Daddy, I’m killed.” 

It was a little girl’s shrill treble that gave this alarm 
but it was answered immediately by the gay, encourag¬ 
ing voice of a boy. 

“Nonsense, Raven, you’re all right. It’s this poor 
chap that’s hurt. Papa, he fell right into the car at 
our feet. See.” 

Then a man’s tone deep and decisive, another answer¬ 
ing respectfully and last of all Jed’s rough voice with a 
well-feigned note of anxiety in it. 

“My boy, sir. Hope yer’ve not hurt him much. The 
law will go hard with yer if yer have. Speeding so 
near a bad turn in the road! Sho, yer auto folks thinks 
yer can run down common people easy and get away 
with it. Not if I know it yer can’t.” And Jed shook 
his fist threateningly in the face of a slight, wiry- 
looking little man who wore a sort of polo cap very 
far back on his sandy hair. 

As Jed’s fist seemed to be very much in this indi¬ 
vidual’s way, he calmly brushed it aside as though it 
were a troublesome fly and said in his quiet, respectful 
manner to a taller man stooping over poor Kid: 

“Here’s water, Mr. Treadwell. Any bones broken, 
do you think?” 

“I think not, Tom,” the deeper voice answered. 
“There—Raven dear, hop out like a good girl and let 
Daddy get our poor little friend up on the seat. Sky¬ 
lark, catch hold. Gently, gently, my boy. There! 


RAVEN AND SKYLARK 


75 


Poor little lad! Raven, give me your sweater. Make 
a pillow of it, dear, and tuck it in under his head.” 

“I don't want to, Daddy,” whined the child called 
Raven. “Let Lark do it. My foot hurts where that boy 
fell on it. Oo-oo-o-oo, it hurts something terrible.” 

She subsided in the midst of her wail on to the grassy 
bank of the roadside and rocked back and forth, with 
her hands clasped around her knees. No one paid any 
attention to her, being too much taken up with poor 
Kid who was still unconscious. 

The boy called Skylark had meanwhile caught up the 
pretty rose-colored sweater which Raven had dropped 
as she descended from the car in hasty obedience to 
her father's orders, and had pushed it gently under 
Kid's dark head. 

“I want to know, is that boy much hurt?” blustered 
Jed Carson. “Him and me's on our way home from the 
city and we ain't got no time to lose. It's up to yer 
uns to drive us along with yer and yer'll have to make 
a report at the police station up in our town before I'll 
be done with yer for this night's work.” 

Kid suddenly shivered from head to foot. His eye¬ 
lids fluttered open. His wan face was pitiful as he 
made an effort to cry out. 

“Oh, Papa, he's all right. See he's coming to. Hur¬ 
rah !” exclaimed Skylark's cheerful voice. 

“Hush dear,” said the tall, deep-voiced man. “He's 
frightened. He wants to tell us something. There, 
there, my boy, what is it ? Any pain, eh ?” 

Kid found himself staring up at a shadowy face 
which seemed to have the voice of a reliable friend at¬ 
tached to it. He liked the strength of the hands that 
seemed to support him, even as they felt his very bone, 
to discover possible injury. 

“Don't be afraid,” the friendly voice continued sooth¬ 
ingly. “You fell from a tree into our machine. I hope 
you are not very much hurt, my little man.” 


76 


JACK 


“Kid, yer hear me talkin' ter yer,” threatened Jed 
pressing closer. “Yer are hurt. Der yer hear? Yer 
couldn’t help bein’ so, these here people cum round the 
turn on yer so fast. Speak up and tell the truth. Mind 
me.” 

But a voice broke in now to the amazement of all 
listening, a whining, but at the same time imperious 
little voice. 

“You are a bad man. Go away and let that boy alone. 
Go away this minute. Tom, you make him go. I don’t 
like him.” 

Kid’s unexpected champion was the little girl, Raven. 
And strangely enough her domineering young voice 
seemed to awaken Kid to full consciousness. 

“Oh,” he screamed wildly, “Don’t let him get me. 
Please, oh please don’t.” 

Swiftly Skylark stooped over and caught one of Kid’s 
hands. 

“Don’t you scare, old fellow,” he urged in eager boy 
friendship. “We don’t believe him. We like you. We 
will stand pat for you, don’t you worry.” 

But Kid tried hard to rise. Then lifting his face to 
the man’s face that was bending over him, he implored: 

“Mister, I ain’t got no home, nor no people. Please, 
don’t believe him. Please, don’t make me go along o’ 
him. He ain’t my folks he ain’t, he ain’t.” 

“What is your name, my boy ?” asked the man. 

“Kid. Kid Carson.” 

“Don’t that prove it? Ha-ha,” laughed Jed roughly. 
“He’s a Carson and so am it. I kin prove it, too.” 

“No, it isn’t Carson. I forgot,” shrieked Kid, clutch¬ 
ing the back of the leather cushioned seat and sitting 
up in wild-eyed terror of Jed’s claim on him being 
acknowledged. “They always called me Kid Carson 
but my own name is on the ring I wear around,my 
neck. My own name is—is” 


RAVEN AND SKYLARK 


77 


He sank back on to Raven’s gay sweater still weak 
from excitement and his fall. 

“Is what, my little man?” queried Skylark’s father 
soothingly. 

“It’s Carson I tell you,” blustered Jed. 

“It’s not, oh, it’s not sir. It’s John.—It’s John 
Wayne.” 

“What ?” exclaimed Kid’s new friend, his tones deep- 
throated now indeed. 

“John Wayne, Dad?” echoed Skylark bewildered. 
Then, “why, he’s Grandpa’s Jack. Say Jack, didn’t 
you ever hear Grandpa speak of me? I’m Gil Tread¬ 
well. You are on your way to visit me with Grandpa’s 
secretary, aren’t you? I’m young Gil you know, but 
they call me Skylark for fun. Say, who are you any¬ 
way?” he next demanded of Jed, looking as he stood 
glaring at the man indignantly, a regal young proto¬ 
type of old Sir Gilbert himself. 


CHAPTER IX 


AT JASMINE KNOLL 

After what seemed to Kid a very long, bad dream 
in which he was relentlessly pursued by Jed Carson, 
he awoke to find himself saying jerkily, “What makes 
’em call you Skylark?” 

And then he blinked his eyes several times and 
rubbed them and tried to sit up, more bewildered over 
why he had asked that question than anyone else 
could possibly be. Skylark ? Why, a skylark was a 
bird! Was he still dreaming? Trying to talk to a 
bird? And yet, what was this other bird’s name that 
was running through his mind like a refrain ? Raven ? 
Yes, that was it. Raven and Skylark. Where had he 
heard about a Raven and a Skylark ? He repeated both 
names drowsily with his knuckles pressed into his 
eyes. 

“Hurrah! He’s all right, Daddy. He knows me. 
Hurrah,” cried out a muffled but jubilant, young voice 
from some nearby corner. 

It seemed to Kid that this voice was so close that 
by putting his hand out he might be able to touch 
the person to whom it belonged. He let one hand drop 
from his eyes and it fell limply over the side of the bed 
on which he was lying. Immediately, another hand 
caught it in a warm, boyish grip that was both com¬ 
forting and stimulating. 

“Doc and Daddy, you see he’s all right don’t you?” 
said the pleasing voice again almost in a whisper now. 

“Lark,” chided a man’s grave, deep tone of reproach. 
“Do you think it was quite manly to come in after being 
forbidden? And to hide? For shame, son.” 

78 


AT JASMINE KNOLL 


79 


A merry but muffled laugh on the boy's part was the 
only answer, then came a wriggling sound on the floor 
under the bed. With a rush of sharp interest Kid's 
senses came back to him quite suddenly. He sat up, 
wide-eyed and eager, a wan, pitiful, little creature who 
made one’s heart ache out of very pity for his frailty. 

But a strong, tender hand laid him back on the pillow 
while some one said briskly, “Lie down, Kid. Lark's 
under the bed but he’ll climb up here beside you and 
chat for ten minutes if you'll obey me and remain flat 
on your back, my boy." 

Kid looked up in amazement. Who were all these 
strangers? He had heard three distinctly different 
voices in three minutes. Where had these people come 
from and where in the world was he? 

A stout man with a quiet but commanding way about 
him had his hand on his wrist. It was he who had 
forced him back on the pillows. A tall, distinguished 
looking gentleman stood at the foot of the bed and 
as he caught the child’s bewildered gaze, smiled cor¬ 
dially. Kid's lips curled up and his heavy eyes bright¬ 
ened. Kindness had always been so rare in his lonely 
young life that the least display of it kindled new fire 
within his worn and tired little body. 

“Come along, Gilbert," said the stout man abruptly, 
dropping Kid's wrist and tucking away his watch at 
which he had been looking, “you and I are not wanted 
here. I resign in favor of Lark. Ten minutes, boys. 
Now mind me. Don't shout Lark. Lie still, Kid. Mr. 
Treadwell and I will be back before you can say Jack 
Robinson," and seizing the taller man’s arm this rotund, 
apple-faced little man started merrily out of the room. 

“Ha, Ha, Doc," laughed a jovial boy emerging at last 
from his entrenchment under Kid's bed. “You sure 
are a brick! Hello, Kid!" he added softly, sitting down 
jauntily on the outermost edge of the soft, silken puff. 
“So glad to see you perk up a bit." 


80 


JACK 


Kid stared at him hard, then rubbed his eyes again 
and afterwards stared harder than ever. At heart the 
waif must have been an unconscious poet for something 
about the blue and gold of the boy at the foot of the 
bed held him speechless while thoughts ran rampant 
in his mind, of meadows gay with noddling spring-time 
flowers, the warm, bright sun gleaming over all and 
the bluest of blue skies smiling down. 

Skylark had a thatch of hair as golden as the sun 
itself, a richly tinted skin and eyes so blue that only 
water and sky could offer any comparison. His smile 
was broad and absolutely glorious, so full of good fel¬ 
lowship and happiness was it. His teeth gleamed white 
between rosy lips. He was the personification of health, 
cheeriness and good-nature. He wore a smart white 
flannel suit with floating blue tie but he wore them 
with an air of ease that made Kid think no more of 
their elegance than though they had been his own tat¬ 
tered garments. 

“Say something—do,” Skylark jogged his memory 
playfully. 

Kid’s open mouth came together with a-snap, his 
staring eyes assumed normal size and he gave a small 
pitiful attempt at a laugh. 

“Good,” nodded Lark’s golden head. 

“Hev I been sick?” asked Kid slowly. 

“I’ll say you have,” chanted the other boy merrily, 
rolling his blue eyes in such comical fashion that Kid’s 
new found, free-toned laugh rang out triumphantly. 
The sound evidently, delighted Skylark as much as it 
had Mr. Bob on a previous occasion. It’s a wonderful 
feeling to discover that you have unlocked, by your own 
contagious mirth, a poor, imprisoned laugh that has 
never guessed its own possibilities. 

“What ever happened to me anyhow?” demanded 
Kid, still groping hard for some ray of remembrance. 

“Why, you fell from a tree, plunk down into Daddy’s 


AT JASMINE KNOLL 


81 


auto. We were rushing home from Washington, you 
see. We'd been off for a long motor trip and on our 
way back stopped off to visit Grandpa, Sir Gilbert 
Treadwell. Did he let us get our noses even inside the 
door of The Castle (that's what Raven and I call it) ? 
No, sir-ee. He just shoo-d us off home so we'd be here 
when his secretary arrived, bringing young Jack to 
visit us. They haven't come yet, though that's over a 
week ago. We expect them today. Mr. Bob, the sec¬ 
retary, was called to halt by Grandpa over the tele¬ 
phone after we all found you. They're all having a 
rousing big time trying to find out which is the Wayne 
boy, you or young Jack." 

Lark rattled on merrily, hugging one knee with his 
restless hands and kicking one foot to the accompani¬ 
ment of his own gay voice. Kid watched him eagerly, 
eyes and ears and mouth wide open, drinking in every 
word. 

“Oh," he murmured at last sitting up, “I think I re¬ 
member some now. There—was—a Mr. Bob—and a 
Jack—and—and they gave me a fine supper out—in— 
the woods. Oh—oh," calling out wildly, “there was 
Jim, too! I lost him. That was it. That was it. Oh 
dear, oh dear," and trembling violently Kid fell back 
on the pillows and broke into most distressing sobs. 

“I say there, hush, hush. Do like a good fellow," 
pleaded Skylark jumping up and patting Kid’s back 
very soothingly. “Doc will send me out if you cry. 
We couldn't have any more fun, talking or anything 
then. Say, please hush up, won’t you? It's so-so like 
a girl, too, don’t you think, to cry. Grit your teeth, 
do. There's a sport." 

Desperately Lark spoke, straight from his boy heart 
and his pleadings struck an answering chord in the 
frailer boy’s make-up. 

“Grit, his teeth, eh?" Oh, yes, Lark, Kid knew all 
about that sort of thing. Nervously strung as he 


82 


JACK 


was, the tramp boy had “gritted his teeth” many times 
over crueler hardships than a lost Jim. He was ill 
now, that was why he had so little control, but not so 
ill that he wasn’t enough of a man to make an effort. 
He gulped down a strangling sob with his face pressed 
into the biggest, fattest, softest pillow a boy could ever 
have found as a smuggling place for unwanted sobs 
and then he turned back to the other boy and smiled 
a little. 

How Lark did laugh for Kid’s face now was a thing 
of mingled mirth and tears. “Time for a rainbow. 
Guess I’ll go look for it,” he teased merrily, starting 
for the window. Half-way he stopped short. “Say, 
Kid, who was this Jim you’re crying for anyway ? Not 
that rough-neck, surely, that was chasing you when 
you fell out of the tree right down at Raven’s feet and 
mine ?” 

“Rough-neck ? That’s Jed you’re talking about. Now 
I know. Now I remember,” began Kid excitedly, 
bright-eyed and eager. “He’s gone, hasn’t he?” he 
queried swiftly. “You drove him away? He didn’t 
get me! Oh,—I’m so, so glad.” 

For a moment he lay quite still smiling peacefully, 
then he began to whisper and Lark stooping down 
asked * 

“What’s that, Kid ? I can’t hear, old chap.” 

“It was a prayer,” answered the waif, very simply. 
“I was a-thanking God and His Madonna Mio for a-tak- 
ing care of me. That’s all.” 

“Oh,” said Lark cheerily, “That’s tip top. I’m glad 
you did. Say, you must be a real good sort don’t you 
know. Now I’d never have thought of doing that my¬ 
self. Alanna will like you all right. Alanna is our 
nurse, you see. We haven’t any mother, Raven and I.” 

Lark paid his honest, boyish tribute very frankly to 
Kid’s piety and then boylike branched off on to other 
subjects abruptly. 


AT JASMINE KNOLL 


83 


“You haven’t told me yet who Jim was. Maybe Daddy 
could find him. He’s doing lots of finding for Grandpa 
and the Waynes on this mix-up about you and Jack.” 

“Jim?” said Kid gently, “why Jim was my horse.” 

“I owned him,” he confided proudly. “I bought him 
all by myself with money I got for Cinny.” 

“Cinny? Who’s Cinny?” persisted Lark curiously. 

“A bear, a trick bear. He was Pietro’s, and when 
Pietro died they sold Cinny and put the money in the 
bank for me.” 

“A bear?” cried out the other boy, leaping off the 
bed, “trick bear! What color was he?” 

“Brown,” laughed Kid. “Do you-uns like bears ?” 

“Like ’em? I love just one, he’s out in the grove 
right now. Daddy bought him for me to play circus 
with. I named mine Pal, just ’cause he acts so keen 
to see me, more than he does anyone else. Hurry up 
and get well enough, Kid, so you can come out on the 
porch. I’ll have Pal brought round on the lawn and 
show him to you. And oh, if you get real, real strong 
fast, you can help me teach him tricks. Same as those 
your bear knew. What ones could your Cinny do? 
Tell me.” 

“Time is up, my boys. Shake hands and say Day 
Day to each other,” rang out the fat little doctor’s 
blunt voice quite unexpectedly. “No, not a murmur 
now or you’ll not get in tomorrow, Lark. Kid, I ex¬ 
pected better things of you, lad. You didn’t seem at 
all a whiner while you were so sick and here you are 
tuning up now just to be in fashion with Lark. Tut, 
Tut.” 

For both children had protested against the inter¬ 
ruption to their delightful tete-a-tete, with much boy¬ 
ish vehemence. 

At this moment a real whine did resound through 
the room. It came from the direction of the door 


84 


JACK 


which the doctor had left ajar. It was in the notes of 
a girlish voice and a very petulant one at that. 

“Lark—Lark! Where a-r-r-r-e you-un-u?” Then 
came a little stamp of a small foot and another whine. 
“Lark—answer—me. Are you in that sick boy’s 
room ?” 

“S-sh!” muttered Lark with a twinkle in his eye, his 
finger on his lips, and without more ado dived once 
more under Kid’s bed. 

Kid suddenly discovered a chuckle in his throat that 
he had never known lived there. 

The doctor shook his head in despair at Lark’s fast 
vanishing heels and crossed to the door-way. 

“Hush, Raven-bird,” he said with good-humored 
cajolery, “you mustn’t disturb my patient, dearie, or 
you will never get in to see him. Run along to the 
other side of the house, do.” 

“I want to peek in just once, Doctor Raleigh. Why 
can’t I? Lark does and it wasn’t his foot that Kid- 
boy fell on. It was mine,” the little girl complained in 
the most comically woeful and yet imperious voice you 
can imagine. Raven certainly gave evidences of being 
a spoiled darling. 

“Oh, please sir, let her come,” begged Kid. 

“I’m here,” announced Raven independently, for while 
Kid was teasing for her and the doctor hesitating, she 
took matters into her own hands and had crossed the 
threshold. Raven had ever been “a law unto herself” 
and much of her discontent and fretfulness arose from 
this unfortunate condition of affairs, had she but known 
it, poor little rich girl! 

Kid smiled happily, but shyly at his visitor. Now his 
mind was easy, he had seen both “birds” as he called 
them to himself, and the queerness of their names 
would bother his dreams no longer. He knew now that 
the voices he had heard were those of human children 
with fantastic names. Never again, no matter how 


AT JASMINE KNOLL 


85 


sick he was, would he think feathered creatures were 
talking and laughing around him to his intense be¬ 
wilderment and agony of mind. 

Raven was as dark as her twin was fair. She had 
long, straight black hair caught back from her gypsy¬ 
like face with a rose-colored ribbon. Her skin was 
sallow, her big, dark eyes stormy. A little scowl be¬ 
tween her level, black eyebrows spoiled the expression 
of a countenance that nature had certainly intended 
to be pleasant to look upon. And her general appear¬ 
ance was still further marred by a wilful droop at the 
corners of her small proud mouth. Speaking with per¬ 
fect frankness one had to confess that Raven was 
certainly a most disagreeable looking little girl. She 
evidently had let her fretfulness of feature sink into 
her disposition as well, for she whined out at Kid: 

“You don’t look very sick. I can’t see why we have 
to keep quiet all the time now, ’long as you’re better.” 

Kid with an inborn courtesy of manner that came 
to him with astonishing ease, smiled very gently at 
this petulant, small maid and said simply enough: 

“I’m a-getting better fast, thanky. How’s your foot 
please? I didn’t know I hurted anyone else but my¬ 
self when I fell.” 

Raven had the grace to look ashamed. Then she 
smiled, and it truly was a pity she couldn’t have 
watched herself do it, for it effected such a fairy-like 
transformation over her whole fretful little face. She 
resembled Skylark for a brief second. She spoke more 
pleasantly. 

“Oh, my foot was nothing, Pooh! It just stung for a 
little while. You frightened me though.” 

But now Doctor Raleigh was gently but firmly push¬ 
ing her out the door and she tossed back over her 
shoulder, minus any whine—“Bye. I’ll send you one 
of my kittens to play with. Bye!” 


86 


JACK 


The next moment they could hear her calling: “Lark! 
Lark!” as dismally as before. 

“She's hopeless,” growled the fat doctor, shaking his 
gray head. “I hope you’re a cheerful soul, Kid. This 
old world hasn’t time for too many gloomy folks. We 
need plenty of sunshine. Plenty of it. What are you 
all a twinkle about, young man?” he demanded with 
pretended gruff ness, advancing towards Kid with 
sternly shaking finger. 

“A twinkle, sir, I dunno jest what you mean, I 
reckon,” gasped sensitive bewildered Kid, flushing rosy 
red. 

“Oh, yes you do,” laughed the jovial doctor, “You’re 
twinkling to yourself because you think Lark is under 
your bed and that presto, when my back is turned out 
he’ll come again and you’ll both be up to more didos.” 

Kid laughed softly now in glad relief. The general 
atmosphere of cheer and jocoseness was contagious. 

“I reckon, maybe, I was a-hoping that, sir,” he ad¬ 
mitted shyly. “Isn’t he there, sir?” 

“No indeed, young man. Skylarker that he is, he 
knows old Doc Raleigh too well to carry a joke on him 
too far. Nay, nay, lad, he made his escape some few 
minutes ago.” 

“How?” pleaded Kid, eager and animated. 

The Doctor watching life and happiness and interest 
flash their signals into the child’s puny frame and 
delicate face, rubbed his hands with a certain gleeful 
boyishness. 

“Through that closet yonder,” he answered pleas¬ 
antly. “Now here’s something to anticipate. There 
is a transom on this side of the closet over the door, 
you can see that. Into Lark’s room which is adjoining 
this no door opens from the closet but there is a tran¬ 
som in exactly the same location for purposes of venti¬ 
lation. Easy matter eh, for Lark to climb up on dress¬ 
ers, chairs, bric-a-brac maybe, for all I know and squirm 


AT JASMINE KNOLL 


87 


through on to the closet shelves. Lo and behold! Then 
he clambers down on to the floor and before I know it, 
pokes open the closet door and excites my patient by 
making strange noises under the bed. Tut—Tut. 
Boys will be boys, eh? Hurry my lad. Get along as 
swiftly as you have today and IT1 let you try the 
transom soon and go in and scare Lark. Ha, Ha, Ha! 
Tit for Tat. Eh ? Lots of fun for boys and girls here 
at old Jasmine Knoll, eh? Well, well, good-bye! You 
don't need me. IT1 send for Miss Milly now," and press¬ 
ing a little bell standing on the table near Kid's bed, 
he proceeded to pick up his hat and bag and chuckled as 
he trotted off. 


CHAPTER X 

“HELLO GRANDY-DAD l" 

Raven walked sadly down the hall after Dr. Raleigh 
had turned her out of the sick-room and by the time 
she had reached the broad hall stairs, she was at 
sword’s point with the world in general. It is fatally 
true, however unpleasant the telling may be, that she 
stamped on every step as she descended. But as this 
particular staircase happened to be heavily carpeted 
her expressions of discontent and ill-humor did no one 
any harm but herself. 

“Where’s my sunny-faced girl today ?” suddenly 
called out a breezy voice from below. “Honey dearest, 
you can’t possibly mean to tell me you’ve broken your 
word and are pouting again. Oh, shame on you, Miss 
Gilberta Jasmine Treadwell!” 

“Miss Milly,” protested Raven stormily, “I can’t be 
smiling all the time, so I can’t! No one to play with 
Nothing to do. Lark’s hiding on me and everything, 
so there!” 

“And everything!” teased Miss Milly, a tall, fresh- 
faced, young woman in crisp white dress and apron, 
with, what Lark called “a paper drinking-cup upside 
down on her head with a dinky, black bow hitched on 
to it.” 

“And everything, dearie? Now aren’t you blush¬ 
ing? No wonder. So little to find fault about that you 
can’t think up grievances and have to say ‘and every¬ 
thing.’ Silly, silly little Gilberta Jasmine.” 

In spite of the gentle reproof in her bantering tone, 
Miss Milly’s warm arm crept around the little girl’s 
waist and she drew the pouting face near enough for a 
fly-away kiss. 


88 


‘‘HELLO GRANDY-DAD’’ 


89 


“Oh, bless me, there’s my bell. I must run, dear. Be 
good honey, and oh, be cheerful.” 

“Are you going up to that Kid-boy, Miss Milly?” de¬ 
manded Raven briskly. 

“Yes, honey. That’s Dr. Raleigh’s signal for me. I 
must go.” 

“Wait. Wait just a minute. You hear me?” called 
out Raven. “I want to send him one of my kittens. 
I promised to. They are right here on the porch. Now 
wait.” 

Amazed, Miss Milly paused and sure enough, within 
the fraction of a second, the little girl was back holding 
up in a tender, careful embrace a saucy, maltese ball of 
fur with gleaming eyes and impudently protruded soft, 
pink tongue. 

“Tell him I’ve sent him Rex. He’s the lively one. I’ll 
keep Crex down here to play with myself.” 

“Why, certainly, I’ll take him to poor, little Kid, 
Raven dearest. It’s unprofessional for a nurse to linger 
once she receives a summons, neither are cats the best 
pets for a sick room, but I consider this quite an excus¬ 
able circumstance for breaking both rules. Honey, 
smile lots and do nice things for other people often, 
just as you are doing now, and listen! It’s a secret, 
but truly Raven Gilberta Jasmine Treadwell, everyone 
would learn to love you just as hard and fast as I do. 
Bye, Honey-girl.” 

And gay Miss Milly floated onward leaving Raven 
staring after her, not knowing whether to laugh or 
cry. She finally did neither but deepening the pucker 
between her eyebrows went out on to the wide old ver¬ 
anda. 

Crex, a duplicate of the gray pet sent up to cheer 
Kid, sat forlornly in the center of the door-mat. He 
cocked his head on one side at Raven’s approach and 
mewed plaintively. It was truly an uncertain world 
for small kittens, a world in which human giants of 


90 


JACK 


varying sizes were wont to swoop down upon merry 
frolics and carry away his brother from him without 
a qualm. 

“Come, Crex, come, ,, called Raven softly. “Let's go 
down on the walk and play." 

Her vice sounded chummy. Crex pricked up his 
ears and arched his wee back and pranced to one 
side, tail up, waving happily. He was a dainty little 
creature and Raven was at her best among pets. 

“Come, come, pretty, pretty kitty, come play with 
Missy," she coaxed gently. 

Her romp was quite rudely interrupted by an irri¬ 
table voice at her elbow and the sound of a stout cane 
pounding the stone steps of the porch violently. 

“Where is your father, child ? Quick!" 

“Stop that," commanded Raven, facing the irate old 
gentleman with as equally irate a countenance. “You 
frightened me. Stop pounding that cane. What makes 
you always make such a fuss when you come, Grand¬ 
pa?" 

Stately old Sir Gilbert Treadwell gasped at this 
counter-challenge. He steadied himself a bit against 
one of the heavy pillars of the porch and with his free 
hand removed his hat. His voice softened to its usual 
tone of dignified ease. 

“I beg your pardon my dear, Grandpa was certainly 
most ungallant and to a lady, too. Aren't you glad to 
see me, little one ?" 

“I guess so," replied Raven slowly, “but you stamp 
so. I can't sort of get used to you. You don't come 
very often anyhow." 

Raven's last remark expressed more pleasure over 
the fact than regret. 

Sir Gilbert smiled and then put up his hand to hide 
his amusement under pretext of stroking his mustache. 

“My dear, you certainly do not change. Just the 
same old sixpence, yes, indeed. Have a good bit of 


‘HELLO GRAND Y-D AD” 


91 


Grandpa in you, I fear. Want to try and lose it, Gil- 
berta. Fretting and fuming aren't pretty traits, little 
girl, in anyone, much less in a lady such as you must 
try to be." 

“Father! You here so soon! Welcome. Where's 
Jack? Where's Mr. Bob? Are you all alone, sir?" 

Raven's Daddy came swiftly across the lawn, hands 
extended eagerly to his “Daddy." Lark's likeness to 
this man was very strong. Both had the same bright, 
open faces and buoyant manners. 

Sir Gilbert turned to greet his tall son with keen de¬ 
light. 

“Gil, lad, I need you. Need you sadly. Little Jack 
is lost. I've sent Bob back by one route, detectives by 
another and Sam and I came along down here. I knew 
you would tell me what to do. Gil, my heart's set on 
that boy! You don’t think me a sentimental old idiot, 
do you ? * He was the only thing that ever loved me 
of his own free will since I lost you, son." 

“Nonsense, Dad," laughed Mr. Treadwell, “you 
never lost me. I just grew up too fast that was all. 
As for Jackie, I don't blame you for loving the child. 
We all need ’em around us. They twine and cling to 
our heart strings until it seems that they all but choke 
us at times. Come in. We will find Jack, never fear. 
I was looking for you all but not quite so early. The 
Waynes are due here next week when Dr. Raleigh 
thinks the boy Kid will be strong enough to be seen." 

Chatting cheerily the younger man drew the other 
into the wide, old hall. Once Sir Gilbert turned back. 

“Sam," he called to his colored attendant, “give little 
Miss Gilberta the big, pink box. The one on top. There, 
child, I didn't forget you." 

He smiled indulgently at Raven. “We must make 
up and be friends. Grandpa can't live forever and he 
wants you to know him as Jack does." 


92 


JACK 


'Where did you lose Jack?” demanded the little 
girl bluntly. 

"How do I know,” Sir Gilbert snapped. "Would I be 
here if I did?” 

"You know where you saw him last,” reminded Raven 
persistently, following both men doggedly into the 
long, cheerful morning room of Jasmine Knoll. 

"You know that, don't you?” she repeated in what 
Lark always called her "bullying voice.” 

"Hush, Raven,” reminded her Father gravely. 

"Yes, child,” her grandfather nodded, regarding her 
once more with a whimsical gleam in his dark eyes, 
"I do know where I saw him last. In the dining car 
of the train with cake and ice cream enough before 
him to keep him busy an hour. I was absent five min¬ 
utes and lo, when I returned to get him he had dis¬ 
appeared. No clue to the mystery. No trace of him 
to be found.” 

"How did you ever happen to leave him to his own 
resources?” asked young Mr. Treadwell in astonish¬ 
ment. "Generally, Father, either you or young Mr. 
Bob guard the poor youngster as though he was a 
precious jewel wrapped up in pink cotton. I fancy 
Jackie resents the superabundance of care but is a 
good-natured, little rogue and doesn't say anything 
until he gets a loophole and then takes French leave 
at his own risk.” 

"You think that may be it?” said Sir Gilbert wist¬ 
fully. "I wish I could believe it, for then finding him 
would be an easy matter. I fear abduction myself, Gil, 
and you know how so many of those kidnapping cases 
have ended of late. I simply cannot tolerate the thought, 
my boy! Poor child. I feel so helpless, so impotent.” 

Sir Gilbert rose from the chair in which he had 
seated himself upon entering the room and began to 
stride up and down fiercely. 


‘‘HELLO GRANDY-DAD” 


93 


Raven trotted after him, her face all aglow now with 
pleasurable excitement. 

“Do you think he was kidnapped, Grandfather? 
That would be sort of jolly, wouldn’t it? A real ad¬ 
venture. My, but I hope he was carried off by an In¬ 
dian on a wild pony’s back and that we’ll find him 
in a cave tied to a stone and then when we save him 
he can tell us all about it. It will be real and not just 
a story like Lark’s adventure books.” 

Raven, run outside, dear! Yes, immediately. I mean 
it. No arguments. Go.” Her father’s voice left no 
doubt in even wayward Raven’s mind as to the sin¬ 
cerity of his command. Reluctantly, but with remark¬ 
able docility for her, she obeyed him. 

She sauntered out on to the veranda once more, 
picked up Crex and tucked him under one arm. Under 
the other she placed carefully the generous-sized pink 
box which her Grandfather had brought her and with 
both burdens ran down the steps and across the well- 
kept lawn to a small building standing to one side of 
the entrance drive on a little knoll. It appeared to be 
a charming bower or summer house, simply covered 
with vines of which the sweetest and daintiest were the 
Jasmine. As Raven parted the over-hanging foliage 
and entered this pretty retreat, one could see that it 
was just a portion of old brick walls carefully kept 
intact by a bit of modern masonry. It had been roofed 
over and red tiles showed in the sunlight. The long 
French windows of what had once been an old-fash¬ 
ioned room were carefully screened. The rough floor 
of unmatched boards was covered with an ancient rag 
carpet of marvelous design. A few pieces of furniture 
that would have made an antique collector’s heart stand 
still, gave the little, old-fashioned room the soft, sacred 
radiance of bye-gone days. There was an old settee, a 
spinning-wheel, a huge carved chest with massive back, 
a lady’s inlaid writing desk and a quaint, old, oaken 


94 


JACK 


cradle. This was the real hearth-stone of the Tread¬ 
well Virginia mansion. This was the sole remaining 
room of the small old-fashioned house where the first 
Treadwell Great Grandma had come as a bride many, 
many decades ago and according to a pretty girlish 
fancy had planted the vines she loved, and named her 
new home in the new world Jasmine Knoll. 

To Raven, judged so indifferent by most people, this 
spot had always been a haven of peace, of happiness 
and never failing delight since her babyhood. 

“Lo there, Raven/’ a pleasant voice greeted her ap¬ 
proach. '‘Where have you been all this while?” 

It was Lark who spoke. Lark sitting on the worn 
door-step of the little “Relic Room.” 

“What are you making ?” demanded Raven, overlook¬ 
ing any form of salutation as she stared down curiously 
at her truant playmate. 

“This?” laughed Lark a bit sheepishly, “oh, it’s just 
a ring I’m putting on to your jump rope. You see, 
Raven, I want to teach Pal to turn one end of the rope 
while I turn the other. Then, I’ll get Collie to learn 
how to jump and soon as they get all their tricks down 
pat, why we’ll give a circus. See?” 

“What’s the ring for?” persisted Raven, glaring at 
the rusty, iron circlet Lark was fastening to the new 
rope which latter trailed over his knees on to the 
ground. 

“So Pal can get a grip on it, of course,” replied 
Lark. 

“Well, you just shan’t spoil my brand new skipping 
rope that way, Lark Treadwell, so there,” and Raven 
dropped both kitten and box and gave a sharp tug at 
her cherished toy. 

Well-bred little Southern gentleman that he was, the 
boy released it to her but tried to reason patiently. 

“I’m not hurting it Raven. Oh, I say, be a sport once 


“HELLO GRANDY-DAD” 


95 


in a while. Don’t I let you have all of my things just 
the minute you want them? Play fair, Sis.” 

“Say, is this where young Gil Treadwell lives, huh ?” 
a new voice unexpectedly broke in. “Say, can’t we sit 
down here anyway for a minute? We’re hot and wow, 
but I’m tired.” 

Lark and Raven both whirled around to see who 
could possibly be addressing them and meanwhile up 
at the big house, Sir Gilbert’s son was striving by 
every means in his power to soothe the elder man’s 
feverish anxiety. 

As soon as Raven’s small back had been turned 
Young Mr. Treadwell had remonstrated cheerily: 

“Father, this kidnapping idea is preposterous. What 
possible reason could anyone have for stealing Jack? 
A little over a week ago we might have suspected the 
Waynes, maybe,” (he gave a jovial laugh at the idea) 
“but now knowing what splendid people they are as 
well as the fact that their own son is lying upstairs 
in this house this very second, abduction hasn’t a ghost 
of a chance as a reason for Jack’s disappearance, now 
has it?” 

“You don’t think so, perhaps,” responded Sir Gil¬ 
bert gravely, “but you have forgotten the notoriety we 
have all received of late in the press, due to the neces¬ 
sary advertisements regarding the antecedents of both 
lost children, Jack and the boy, Kid. Clever despera¬ 
does would know very well that I would offer a liberal 
reward for an adopted child my regard for whom I have 
made no secret of either in public or private life.” 

“How did you happen to leave him alone?” insisted 
the younger man. “I asked you before, Father, but I 
fancy you did not hear me.” 

“Why, there was a two hour tie-up on our train 
just this side of F—. I got impatient over the delay 
and sent Bob along to telegraph a business message 
back to the Capital for me. Jack was hungry so I took 


96 


JACK 


him into the dining car and just as we were busy with 
our dessert, I remembered some data I had failed to 
give Bob. It was important. I was sure Jack was safe. 
I left him in the waiter's care, plunged off after Bob, 
wasn't gone five minutes, for Bob met me half-way, 
and back I came to find the boy missing. Waiter said 
he had to leave him to fill an order. Was as surprised 
as I was at the quick disappearance. No one in the 
dining car had seen anyone approach or speak to the 
child. Said he was at his table one minute and the 
next he seemed to have vanished in mist." 

“Peculiar, but not exactly alarming," remarked Gil¬ 
bert II. 

“Why isn't it alarming? Tell me, since you know so 
much about it, sir," stormed Sir Gilbert impatiently. 

Neither of the men heeded the sudden rush of young 
foot-steps on the veranda. Did not see the little 
shadows pass the window. Did not hear the hushed 
but merry giggles in the hall and were therefore elec¬ 
trified when coolly, a boy voice called out from the 
door-way: 

“Hello, Grandy-dad! Here I am. I've had a whop¬ 
ping good time." 

Sir Gilbert whirled around, his agitated old face 
flushed and careworn. Young Mr. Treadwell or Gilbert 
II. as we had better call him for convenience, looked up 
in amazement. 

From the hall Lark's gay face peered in at them over 
Raven’s shoulder. The little girl was smiling glee¬ 
fully but the child upon whom all eyes were centered 
stood alone, a bit in advance of the other two. Freckled¬ 
faced, red-headed, over-heated as he was, never had an 
arch rogue looked so lovable, so adorable as the one 
whose brown eyes twinkled up into Sir Gilbert's anxious 
ones. 

The boy wore a dusty, blue flannel, sailor suit. He 
had a middy cap on one side of his ruddy head. His 


“HELLO GRANDY-DAD” 


97 


feet were wide apart. Under either arm, in his hands 
and protruding from his bulging pockets were attrac¬ 
tive looking packages of that confection, beloved by all 
children, known as Cracker-Jack. Certainly, this rol¬ 
licking laddie looked to life the very picture of the 
advertisement boy whose face we have often seen ad¬ 
vertising this delectable dainty. 

Now I'll not say what the scapegrace really deserves, 
but ril tell you instead how his ever-indulgent guardian 
greets him. 

“Oh, my boy! My darling little boy,” whispered Sir 
Gilbert, arms extended. 

“Mon Adorable One!” growled Mr. Bob’s deep voice 
from the hall, where the poor fellow stood tired and 
dusty. 

“Hugs instead of spankings! Worst Luck,” he mut¬ 
tered, but you all know Mr. Bob well enough by now 
to guess that he had a twinkle in his blue eyes even as 
he said the words and a warm heart beating true to 
the little Pal who made his life so busy and so eventful. 


CHAPTER XI 


CRACKER JACK 

“Well, well, Jack, how-do-you-do ?” exclaimed the 
younger Mr. Treadwell cordially, stepping forward to 
greet the truant who was engulfed in Sir Gilbert’s 
embrace. 

“What, you have forgotten me? Impossible,” he 
joked. “Why, that is quite heart-breaking. Come, 
come! Of course you remember me, don’t you, sir?” 

“Yup, now I do,” affirmed Adorable genially with 
one of his most captivating smiles. “You brought me 
a gun once. You were dressed like a soldier then. Say, 
have some Cracker Jack, it’s swell,” extending his 
treasure with lavish generosity. 

“Jack,” reproved Sir Gilbert gravely, “your cap, my 
boy! Your manners!” 

Adorable obligingly bent his head and shook off his 
offending cap, just as a roguish monkey might have 
done, and then calmly looked up again and smiled even 
more alluringly than before at both men. 

“Your hand, Jack, Why, lad, I am ashamed of you,” 
continued the punctilious old nobleman sorrowfully. 

“Oh, shucks, Grandy-dad, now I’ll have to drop ’em 
all!” mourned Adorable in real distress, but suiting 
the action to the word he sent all his precious packages 
of confectionery flying to the floor and came to atten¬ 
tion like a little minute-man, extending to Mr. Tread¬ 
well a sticky and reluctant small hand. 

Gilbert II. shook it warmly. He had never quite suc¬ 
ceeded in forgetting his own boyhood and this scape¬ 
grace of a youngster made a terrible appeal to men 
98 


CRACKER JACK 


99 


still atune to boyish impulses. Already Jack was on 
his knees among his scattered treasures. Lark from 
the doorway flew to help him collect them. 

“Hi!” chuckled Jack. “Let's leave 'em as they are. 
Here's some more,” emptying his bulging pockets and 
as a last surprise pulling the elastic of his sailor blouse 
out to its full capacity, thus permitting several more 
packages to escape from concealment. 

“I got 'em all,” he said gleefully, “for helping a man 
at the Fair. It was heaps of fun. Say, everybody 
choose the one you want. Huh ? 'Twill be sport. You 
first, Grandy-dad. There's a prize in ev'ry package, 
ladies and gentlemen. Just walk up. This way—this 
way to see the only 'rignal Cracker-Jack Boy. That's 
me,” he added, dropping his professional tone to impart 
this confidence. 

“That's what the man said to the folks. He had me 
standing on a chair inside the counter dealing out the 
Cracker-Jack and there was a dog, too, like in the pic¬ 
tures. His name was Mutt. Go on, Grandy-dad, please, 
you choose first.” 

Adorable was in his element. He sat back on his 
heels, grinning joyously, in the midst of his possessions. 
Lark, from the other side of the ring, laughed heartily 
in appreciation of this most desirable addition to the 
family circle at Jasmine Knoll. Raven advanced into 
the room with more enthusiasm than was her custom 
to show over anything. 

Strangely enough, this downright young guest of 
the ruddy hair and off-handed mannerisms had startled 
her out of her unpleasant habit of hugging her personal 
grievances and whims to her heart. She had forgotten 
to whine since the moment that curly, red head had 
appeared through the twining vines of the Relic House, 
asking concerning the whereabouts of “young Gil 
Treadwell.” Jack was to Raven a playmate decidedly 
and blissfully new. 



100 


JACK 


“You kin have some, too,” Jack nodded at her. _ “I 
mean, you can or you may or you must or something 
or other. Anyhow, please take some,” he urged cheer¬ 
ily, beaming at Raven in delightful good-fellowship. 
Then in a moment he went on, “Go ahead, choose first, 
Grandy-dad always says ‘Ladies first/ Whoo-ee that 
one looks fine and fat. Betcher you’ve got a slick prize. 
Open it quick and see.” 

By this time, all three children were on their knees, 
holding high carnival over the gay little boxes spread 
broadcast on the rug. 

Raven's laugh gurgled out excitedly as upon selecting 
when she first picked it up. She broke the seal eagerly. 
“It's a frying pan,” she announced joyfully, producing 
her prize after a hurried search and holding it on high. 

“It is just the right size, my dear, for your doll's 
kitchen, eh?” remarked Sir Gilbert, standing with his 
hands behind his dignified back, beaming down upon 
the youngsters as though he wished he too, could go 
down on his knees and join in their sport. 

“I don’t care for dolls, Grandfather! I like live 
things. I’ll give Rex and Crex their milk in this for 
fun. Only one can get near it at a time and it will 
only hold a drop or two of milk. What a joke I’ll have 
watching them squabble over it. Come here Crex, and 
see your new cream saucer. Oh, ha-ha-ha, see him 
play with it!” 

For Crex after investigating the tiny tin toy with his 
ever curious little nose, decided it was a new kind of a 
ball and gave it a flip with his paw. It slid away over 
the velvet surface of the rug and after it went Crex. 
The antics of that kitten and that Saucepan for the 
next few moments would have done anyone a world of 
good to watch. The children thoroughly enjoyed the 
sight and gave way to gales of laughter in which Sir 
Gilbert, Mr. Treadwell and Mr. Bob sympathetically 
joined. 


CRACKER JACK 


101 


“Now, is it my turn ?" asked Sir Gilbert very solemn¬ 
ly. “Well, let me see! Jack, my boy, hand me that 
one, thank you/' he said after a judicious survey of the 
outspread dainties, indicating a battered looking box 
with his ebony cane. 

“Yours looks like a poor grab, Grandy-dad,” re¬ 
marked Jack. “Some packages aren't real full. Try 
another, if you want to." 

“No, no. I made my choice, lad. I'll stick to my 
grab as you call it whatever it brings me. Will you 
open it for me, Gilberta?" He was extending the box 
to Raven but she shook her head. 

“It's not fair, Grandfather, to ask somebody else to 
open your grab. You must do it yourself, you know," 
remonstrated Raven in one of her most fretful tones. 

“Heaps more fun, Grandfather, to find your own 
prize. Try and see," urged Skylark, pouring the oil 
of his cheeriness over the troubled waters stirred up 
by Raven's whine. 

“Why, of course, I should have known better! Dearie 
me, how we old folks do forget the codes and bylaws 
of our childhood games," assented Sir Gilbert obliging¬ 
ly, fumbling with his package and cane simultaneously 
and making a rather awkward business of it. 

“I’ll hold your cane, Grandy-dad," chuckled Jack, 
scrambling up and gripping the old gentleman's walk¬ 
ing-stick. “Now go to it, please. That's it! Yes, sir, 
just poke around inside. Find it? What is it? Let’s 
see. Oh, there's a dandy big bit of Cracker-Jack tum¬ 
bling out. Whee—ee ee! I've got it. I've got it, 
Grandy-dad," popping the treasure into his rosy mouth. 
“What have you got? Show us. Quick, please." 

Amid a chorus of laughter, Sir Gilbert produced a 
small watch and chain and after solemnly regarding 
it for a second as though deeply impressed with his 
find, delighted his young audience to a top-notch de¬ 
gree by pompously tucking the watch into his vest 


102 


JACK 


pocket and adjusting the chain to their complete satis¬ 
faction. 

The younger Mr. Treadwell had in the meantime 
crossed over to Mr. Bob’s side and clapping his hand on 
that young man’s shoulder had given him a most cordial 
greeting. They chattered a few moments in under¬ 
tones while Sir Gilbert held the children’s attention. 

“How are you and Mr. Wayne progressing, Bob?” 
queried Gilbert II. eagerly. “Is everything working 
out conclusively as to the identity of little Kid? By 
the way, he’s on the mend now, Dr. Raleigh says. He’s 
a fine little lad. A son any father can be proud of. 
Yes, indeed.” 

“I’m sure of it,” nodded Mr. Bob. “I liked the grit 
and self-reliance of the mite when we met him alone by 
the roadside that night when we were traveling here, 
Jack and I. But while Mr. Wayne and his formid¬ 
able Lady Cousin, Miss Prudence Wayne, are thorough¬ 
ly convinced that Kid is the lost son and heir, a com¬ 
plication arises in the fact that Mrs. Wayne declares 
that Jackie, and not Kid, is her son. And she has 
maintained this in spite of every evidence produced in 
behalf of Kid.” 

“Have you seen her recently?” asked Gilbert II. 

“Not since the day that Sir Gilbert summoned me 
back with Jack from my Mother’s which was the point 
we had then reached on our journey here.” 

“Then I can perhaps relieve your mind,” smiled Mr. 
Treadwell. “Mrs. Wayne has communicated with me 
since then and is a woman of clear and sane judgment, 
I should say. She will soon settle the question of Kid’s 
claim I am positive and settle it better than we could 
have done if we searched for clews for a hundred 
years.” 

He bent over and whispered in Mr. Bob’s ear. That 
good fellow’s blue eyes kindled suddenly and he ex¬ 
claimed warmly: 


CRACKER JACK 


103 


“Isn't she a splendid woman though? Honestly, Mr. 
Treadwell, if it wasn't for the loss it would mean to 
Sir Gilbert and also to little Kid now, I could wish 
from my heart she really was as she believes herself 
to be, Jack's Mother. She could do wonders for our 
Adorable One. Poor chick! He has so many men 
around him, the little rogue, and what he really needs 
is one wee touch of mothering. Isn't that so?'' 

“Well, rather," drawled Gilbert II. in an attempt to 
say the words lightly but with a catch in his throat for 
his own two little ones who needed also so sadly what 
Jack had missed, a Mother's love. To offset this sud¬ 
den emotion Gilbert II called out abruptly to the circle 
still gathered around the Cracker Jack ring: 

“By the way, the Adorable One as Bob calls him, 
hasn't satisfied us yet about this getting lost business. 
Jack, my boy, how came you to leave the dining-car 
this noon? Who enticed you away?" Mr. Treadwell 
laughed as he put the last question. 

Jack was apparently too busy sorting out his wares 
to have heard the question. Sir Gilbert had seated 
himself near the children and was bending forward 
with his chin resting on his cane, his lips parted in 
an amused smile. At his son’s question he looked up 
and his face clouded as though at the remembrance of 
his former alarm and anxiety. 

“Yes, Jack, my child, you must tell us at once," he 
interposed. “Just what happened after I left you in 
the train? As Gilbert put it, who enticed you away, 
my child?" 

Jack sat back and fidgeted uneasily. His face lost 
much of its genial glow for a second, but only for a 
second. He ended by chuckling as only Jack could 
chuckle and demanded: 

“What does that mean, Grandy-dad, huh? 'Nticed? 
Huh?" 

Gilbert II and Bob laughed outright. Sir Gilbert 


104 


JACK 


smiled in spite of himself and Lark chuckled an accom¬ 
paniment to Jack’s gurgle. Raven looked interested 
but not exactly amused. 

“Who urged you to leave the train ?” Who came up 
and spoke to you?” explained Sir Gilbert. 

“The waiter man spoke to me,” said Jack, “but only 
for a minute. Then he went away to another table 
and I—I—well, honest and true, Grandy-dad, I just 
skipped, just by myself, see? I wanted to know what 
made the engine stop and I wanted to watch ’em start 
it, so I just went all by myself see?” 

“Yes, I think I do,” replied his Guardian gravely. 
“I suppose you did not give a thought, however, to 
the fact that I asked you to remain just where I left 
you until I returned, did you, Jack?” 

Jack put his hands back of him on the floor now, 
and rocked himself a bit uneasily. Then he laughed 
wheedlingly: 

“Oh, I say, Grandy-dad, I forgot but I just had to 
see that engine, honest I did! I met a boy while I was 
looking at it. He had a big basket of fruit and things. 
He said he was going to the Fair and wasn’t I? And 
when he told me about the flying horses being there 
and all, why I just wanted to go mighty bad and spend 
my quarter, the one you gave me last night.” 

“Yes, Jack. What next?” asked Sir Gilbert. 

“Oh, I went along with him but I lost my quarter, 
somehow, and couldn’t get by the man at the gate, 
’til a big man with a red face came fussing around and 
he was mad and he said some’phin about a pesky 
boy and that he never came and lots more, kinder mad 
like and then he saw me and whistled. Like this 
Grandy-dad, sort of glad and surprised like” (and here 
Jack gave a perfect impersonation of astonishment and 
pleasure expressed by a long drawn out whistle.) 

“And then?” prodded Sir Gilbert. 


CRACKER JACK 


105 


“Oh, he asked me my name an did I want to get 
in to see the Fair? And he winked at the gate-man 
and told me I could get by if I'd sell Cracker Jack for 
him. He said I looked more like the Cracker Jack 
boy than the fellow he had hired and that never showed 
up. ’N’ I said yes and I did and that's all. It was 
fun, heaps of fun, Grandy-dad.” 

“I should judge so,” commented Sir Gilbert dryly. 
“How long did you sell Cracker Jack for your-er-friend, 
Jack?” 

“Bout an hour, I guess,” laughed Jack, “and then the 
man gave me fifty cents, Grandy-dad, and said I was 
the best boy for his business he’d ever seen. Would 
I hire out to him for Fairs and things. But I said 
I couldn’t, so he gave me all this Cracker Jack for 
myself, and said I could go see the sights. Oh, I had 
a swell time. I rode on the flying horses ’slong’s my 
fifty lasted. Then I traded a box of Cracker Jack for 
some gum, and another for some peanuts and a woman 
at a ‘freshment table gave me a glass of orangeade. I 
wanted to shoot some balls for a prize but I hadn’t any 
money and then—well, then, Mr. Bob found me and 
brought me along here. We had to wait for a train 
a long time and we got off at the wrong station, didn’t 
we, Mr. Bob ? We had to walk a long way, that’s why 
we were hot and tired. Mr. Bob was sort of cross, 
too. That’s all, Grandy-dad,” and Jack wriggled joy¬ 
fully back to his former position, gleeful that his tale 
of misdeeds was over. 

“Say Jack, that sure was sport,” exclaimed Lark 
eagerly. “Are those Fair Grounds very far away? 
Maybe we could go over there together tomorrow. I’d 
love to. Want to come, Raven?” He turned to smile 
at his twin. It was second nature with Lark to think 
always of Raven as well as himself. 

“No I, don’t,” declared Raven pettishly, “Grand¬ 
father’s mad as anything now. We can’t have any 


106 


JACK 


more fun at all.” She rose swiftly to her feet and 
marched over and stood wrathfully in front of Sir Gil¬ 
bert. 

‘‘If you are going to storm, Grandfather, hurry up 
and do it. Do it now, so we can get it over with 
and go out to play,” she electrified her companions by 
announcing. 

“Gilberta!” chided her father sternly. 

“But he does storm so, Daddy. He does. He does,” 
she persisted fretfully. 

There was an unexpected interruption, a rustle in 
the doorway, a quiet but vibrant voice. 

“May little Gilberta come up for a moment with me ? 
Kid wants to thank her for the kitten. I am sure he 
will rest better then.” The nurse stood on the threshold, 
smiling in upon the occupants of the room. 

Raven bounded over to her with only sweetness in 
her accents now. 

“Oh, Miss Milly, how nice! Will I bring, Crex, too? 
Oh, what’s the matter?” 

For Miss Milly was staring beyond her at Jack busy 
over the Cracker Jack boxes and Sir Gilbert had 
sprung to his feet with a hasty and bewildered ex¬ 
clamation. 

“Miss Milly, do you want to try for a prize ? Please ?” 
begged Lark smiling up at this dear friend, Raven’s 
and his. 

“Miss Milly,” thundered Sir Gilbert—“why—why— 
who are you, Madam ? Explain this please at once.” 

And then for the first time, “Miss Milly” became 
aware of the old nobleman’s presence. She smiled a 
little more sweetly than before but only inclined her 
head in recognition of him and his strange form of 
address. She was far too busy to speak, for she had 
her eyes on some one else, her arms open wide to re¬ 
ceive a little figure which came hurling itself towards 
her. 


CRACKER JACK 


107 


Jack had looked up a second ago, had suddenly tossed 
all his Cracker Jack away and with one glad hurrah 
had rushed to her and now, clasped in her arms, did a 
strange thing for merry Jack. He burst into sobs. 

“Thought Td never see you any more,” he choked 
as she kissed him. “Say, you are my Mother ain’t you, 
huh?” 

And Mrs. Wayne holding him fast, flashed an appeal¬ 
ing look at all three men as she assured him: 

“I hope so, my little boy, That’s why I came here 
as Miss Milly. I knew if I took care of little Kid there 
was no surer way of proving which was my son, you 
or he. The rest say that he is my boy, little Jack, but 
you and I know, don’t we, dear ? We know. Don’t we, 
Jack?” 


CHAPTER XII 


A STOLEN VISIT 

Kid was feeling decidedly better. He had enjoyed 
a most delightful day to the full. He lay thinking it 
all over with one hand tucked cozily under his cheek. 
His eyes which had received their first sprinkle of the 
Sand Man’s magic dust, blinked drowsily at a design in 
silver which ornamented the shade of the small night 
lamp standing on the table near his bed. 

This design represented a shaggy dog, but in the dim 
light of the sleeping-room, it seemed to take the shape 
of “Cinny” to Kid’s fancy. Suddenly he found himself 
remembering many a chill, damp night when he and 
Pietro had been out on the road. Many a night when 
as he now curled up among soft downy puffs and 
pillows, he had then nestled close to Cinny’s warm, soft 
fur. The bear had always seemed fond of the child. 
“Dear old Cinny,” thought Kid, “I’d like to see him. 
I wonder if this Lark fellow’s bear is as nice as old 
Cin.” Then thoughts of pets brought a sorrow home 
swiftly to the little tramp lad’s heart. His eyes flew 
open, all signs of sleep vanished. He had remembered 
Jim, his lost horse. A wee, trembling sob swelled up 
in his throat but he choked it back sternly. He had 
liked Cinny, oh, indeed he had: but Jim; Oh, Jim was 
different. Jim had been old and helpless and forlorn. 
He, Kid, had saved him at the cost of all his small 
wealth. Jim was his, his very own. Just two treas¬ 
ures had been Kid’s throughout his short life, his ring 
and his horse. By nature he was constituted to feel 
deeply and acutely. For a moment as he lay so still 
staring at the lamp, it seemed as though his little heart 

108 


A STOLEN VISIT 


109 


would break. Jim had been like some inexpressibly 
dear human chum, for he had loved Kid in return for 
love. He had known, too, what hunger, loneliness and 
abuse meant and that bond had drawn them the closer. 
Where was poor Jim tonight? 

Hark! What was that? Kid sat up and fastened 
his blue eyes expectantly upon the door of the closet, 
that delightful closet out of whose shadows he expected 
to see gay Lark emerge. 

But the grazing sound, the bump, the thump, the 
grunt which had electrified Kid had also attracted his 
nurse's attention. She came forward smiling, and Kid 
clapped his hands softly at her and pointed to the door 
of the closet and then put his finger to his lips. 

Both waited further developments. They came 
swiftly. Someone scuffled for a second on the floor of 
the closet. Someone fumbled with the knob. Some¬ 
one peeped at last into the room through a crack of the 
door. Someone gave a long, low whistle. 

Impulsively Kid answered it. Miss Milly stood per¬ 
fectly still at the foot of Kid's bed, ready to interfere 
if the excitement waxed too strong for her patient. 

At last an arm swung out of the closet and a small 
but solid something popped down on the bed close to 
Kid's hand. As the boy felt for the package eagerly, 
a horse whisper came from the closet: 

“There's a prize in it. Look for it. How are you? 
Huh?" 

The voice was so familiar and yet so unexpected Kid 
peered harder than ever through the shadowy dimness 
of his room, striving to see the speaker’s face. 

“Please, please, ask him to come out, Miss Nurse, 
will you ?" he begged, his blue eyes now fixed appealing¬ 
ly on Miss Milly's kind face. 

“I think," he explained anxiously, “it's that Jack. It 
sounds like him. Oh, I hope it's Jack." 

A triumphant chuckle seemed to set merry echoes 


110 


JACK 


going in all corners of the room. Then a small, ruddy¬ 
headed boy in pajamas scuttled across the floor to 
Kid’s bedside and gripping his hand remarked jovially: 

“Yep, I’m Jack. Hello! How are you? Huh?” 

“Oh, hello, Jack!” answered Kid feebly but joyfully. 
“Where’s Mr. Bob? I want him to know why I 
couldn’t keep my word to him and the nice old lady. 
I’ve been hurt. I fell out of a tree that night after 
you left me. I didn’t know nothing at all ’til today. 
Did I, Miss Nurse?” 

“No, dear, you certainly did not,” confirmed Miss 
Milly. 

But at the sound of her voice Jack whirled around 
to look at her and across his droll face crept a perfect 
cherub’s smile. 

“Whoopie! I found you again, didn’t I? Hurrah!” 
he cried, starting towards her. But she laid her hands 
on his shoulders and turned him back towards Kid. 

“Darling, we must play fair, remember. We have 
promised to have nothing more to do with each other 
until I can prove my right to call you my little boy 
all the time. Be patient, Jackie, and true to your word. 
Don’t talk to me, dear. Tell Kid something jolly and 
then say good-night. It is time all small boys were 
aboard the Wooden Shoe you know. Be quick now, lit¬ 
tle Jack.” 

Poor Adorable looked at her so wistfully that to 
steel herself for the ordeal, Mrs. Wayne (or as she is 
called for the present, Miss Milly) turned and walked 
away. 

Sir Gilbert had been so incensed to find her at Jas¬ 
mine Knoll that only her promise and Jack’s to keep 
apart as much as possible had induced the old gentle¬ 
man to permit Jack to remain in the house. 

“Prove he is your son, Madam, if you can. Until 
then content yourself with the boy upstairs, who com¬ 
mon sense tells everyone is your lost child,” Sir 


A STOLEN VISIT 


111 


Gilbert had thundered fiercely at her in the Morning 
Room when she had so disturbed him by appearing 
unexpectedly as Nurse Milly. 

She was living up to her agreement honorably now 
as she turned her back on little Jack, but oh, with what 
cost to them both. 

However, the boy in Jack triumphed over his twitch¬ 
ing lips as he watched his mother leave him and turn¬ 
ing back to Kid, who had watched everything with a 
puzzled frown, said cheerily: 

“Huh, we knew you couldn’t come that night. Mr. 
Bob said you wouldn’t tell a lie. His mother said so, 
too, and when Mr. Bob went back and couldn’t find you, 
he was just as sure as shooting that somephin had hap¬ 
pened to you or you’d lost your way or somephin like 
that. Anyhow he walked back to meet you, cause the 
cycle frightened Jim, you know. And when you 
weren’t where we left you, why he hiked further back 
to where we had our spread—you remember, don’t 
you?” 

“Yes, yes, under the trees by the road. In a kind 
of a clearing,” chimed in Kid eagerly. 

“Yep, that’s right,” nodded Jack. “Well, you 
weren’t there o’course but who do you think was, huh ?” 

“I—I—dunno,” faltered Kid. 

“Why, Jim, the oP horse that I rode and raced on,” 
chuckled Adorable. “Mr. Bob said he guessed he went 
back to eat the crumbs up. Say, wasn’t he hungry 
though,” and Jack laughed merrily. 

But Kid was sitting up, wide-eyed with ecstasy: 

“Jim was there? Oh, honest and true, Jack? 
Honest and true?” 

“Sure!” nodded Adorable, “and he’s at Mr. Bob’s 
Mother’s house right now. She’s taking care of him 
for you. I didn’t have time to ride him any more, 
’cause Grandydad called Mr. Bob and me back home, 
soon as he heard about you. Mr. Bob phoned to him 


112 


JACK 


about your ring and all, you see. Grandy-dad thinks 
you are John Wayne, the real one, I mean. He doesn’t 
want me to be. He wants me to stay his boy. I just— 
as—soon, only—only I want her to be my Mother. 
Grandy-dad says she’s your Mother, Kid. Oh, yes’m, 
yes’m, I’m going now,” he ended very abruptly in an¬ 
swer to Mrs. Wayne’s gentle “Your time is up, Jack 
dear.” 

“I brought you some Cracker Jack, Kid,” he said tap¬ 
ping the small package near Kid’s hand. “Good¬ 
night !” 

He vanished within the closet’s dimness, but put 
back his head to say: “Good-night—Mother.” And 
then with a monkey’s agility, went up the shelves to 
the transom and soon they heard him laugh with Lark 
on the opposite side of the partition. 

“Oh, Miss Nurse, Miss Nurse, my Jim is safe. Oh, 
I’m so—so glad,” whispered poor Kid with shining eyes. 

And while Mrs. Wayne rejoiced with him in his great 
happiness, her heart beat high with another happiness 
all her own. 

Jack was naturally drawn to her, Jack the irrespon¬ 
sible, the scapegrace. 

But Kid, to all appearances a more sensitive, more 
affectionate child than Jack, had paid no attention 
whatever to the news that she might prove to be his 
mother. Jim was his one thought. 

“How can anyone doubt nature’s own proof?” she 
sang happily to herself. “Jack and I knew each other 
at first sight. Oh, my boy, my little baby! Soon they 
must let me call you mine to have and to hold forever.” 

Four days later Kid was introduced to Pal at an 
initial performance given by that wonderful animal, 
under the supervision of Lark, on the side lawn. 

It was as fair and sunny a May morning as ever 
dawned. 


A STOLEN VISIT 


113 


The invalid was resplendent in a smart gray suit with 
glowing red tie. His face was shining, his hair 
smoothly brushed, his teeth gleaming in a happy boy¬ 
ish smile. He sat in state upon a balcony leading from 
Lark's room. Below him lay the velvety lawn, stretch¬ 
ing away to the little knoll embowered in Jasmine vines 
where gleamed the red tiles of the little Relic House. 

“Hurrah!’’ shouted Lark looking up at him from the 
lawn. “Hurrah for Kid! Say, you are some swell, be¬ 
lieve me! Nothing less than an opera box for you at 
this show. Well, my word!" and then Lark’s caroling 
laugh rang out joyously. 

“Miss Alanna, why do you uns call him Lark, please?" 
queried Kid shyly of the woman who stood near his 
chair at the balcony rail. 

She was Nurse and Governess to Lark and Raven 
and had sometimes relieved Miss Milly’s watch in the 
sick room during Kid’s illness. 

The little waif liked her exceedingly. She was a 
quiet, serious-faced woman with a mellow cadence in 
her voice which made her speech always sound like 
music to the child. She had eyes of Irish blue, a rosy 
face and masses of heavy, black hair which were coiled 
around her head like a crown. 

The only name she was ever called by at Jasmine 
Knoll was Alanna. Raven had dubbed her that in baby 
days. It was merely a childish imitation of her nurse’s 
pet name for herself. “Good-night, Alanna,’’ this kind 
but serious-faced person would say bending over the 
little crib. 

“Nighty, Alanna,’’ little Raven would lisp back to 
her. Thus had the name originated. 

“Why do I call him Lark?" repeated Alanna slowly, 
her rich voice lingering a bit over each word. It was 
a habit with her to speak slowly, as though each utter¬ 
ance was weighed in her mind before escaping by way 
of her lips. 


114 


JACK 


“Because, Alanna, he is as one might say, always 
soaring high like the bird I named him for. He sings 
and he sings you know, speeding upwards ever and re¬ 
joicing in the sun. The lark is a bird of cheer, Alanna. 
Gilbert is well named, is it not so?” 

“Why, how pretty,” breathed Kid softly. “I like 
that.” Then after a moment he asked another ques¬ 
tion: 

“Tell me about Raven’s name, too, please.” 

Now over Alanna’s rather sad face broke a whim¬ 
sical smile. 

“My poor, little, croaking bird!” she said crooningly. 
The raven is a gloomy bird you see, Alanna. One that 
tells only of trouble and woe so to speak. I called little 
Gilberta thus to break her of her sad way of fretting 
and pining and looking only on the dark side of things 
and somehow or other it has stuck to her, poor child. 
But there is another reason, too, for the names. Part 
of Lark’s stands for skylarking which he’s up to a good 
bit of the time, now especially with this new boy who 
has come here, Sir Gilbert’s ward. And Raven’s nick¬ 
name stands also for her hair, black as a raven’s wing, 
as well the big, black eyes of her glowering at one 
when she’s fretty, poor bairn.” 

“I don’t think she’s fretty,” championed Kid loyally. 
“I like her. She was ever so good to me, loaned me her 
kitten and her books and her games and all while I was 
sick. I think she’s splendid, Miss Alanna.” 

“Do you, dearie? Well, I’m glad indeed to hear you 
say so, for ’tis with whole heart I love my little black¬ 
bird, Raven. In spite of her faults ’tis a sweet, warm 
heart she has. Some day she’ll make a fine character, 
of that I’m certain. Now, Alanna, do you know what 
bird you reminded me of the first night I saw you and 
ever since?” 

“No,” replied Kid eagerly, “but please tell me, won’t 
you?” 


A STOLEN VISIT 


115 


“A little snow-bird, dearie. A brave but fragile little 
thing, blown up by heavy storms against a window- 
pane, but struggling all the time to get its bearings, to 
flap its wings and make its flight alone and blithely in 
spite of wind or sleet or snow.” 

“Oh!” murmured Kid, his eyes aglow with the thrill 
which the poetry of Alanna's speech awakened within 
him. 

“And as for young Jack,” went on Alanna, smiling 
outright now as a frolicsome youngster in a blue sailor 
suit went suddenly cart-wheeling across the lawn, “’tis 
of two birds he reminds me. Sometimes of the cheeky 
little sparrow with its twitter of good-fellowship and 
its cute way of looking up at one, and oftener of the 
robin. Head always up, eyes always bright. Some¬ 
thing trim and trig and fresh and wholesome about 
him every minute. Sometimes a robin looks a fine, 
proud little bird as it stands all a poise. Then snap, 
it digs for its worm, has its fun and comes up to 
attention again like a shot, eyes bright as though to 
say, was I in mischief—oh, no indeed. That's Master 
Jack.” 

“Oh, Alanna,” laughed Kid easily, amusedly—“you 
are so nice! I love to listen to you talk more than I 
love a-reading or a-playing or anything.” 

“Bless your heart,” answered his companion tender¬ 
ly. “I like to talk to you, Kid. You seem to under¬ 
stand so much more than most folks.” 

“Hip-Hip-Hip-up there. What's the matter?” shout¬ 
ed Lark at the top of his lungs. 

“Nothing Lark. We’re all ready when you uns are,” 
called back Kid happily over the edge of the balcony 
rail. 

“Hark-Hark! The play begins,” chanted Lark in 
herald-like accents. “Ladies and gentlemen, behold 
Pal. He approaches. He is here. The famous trick 
bear.” 


116 


JACK 


“Whoo-ee! Some Pal, I'll say,” rang out Jack's voice 
hilariously. 

Kid looked down. Saw a huge brown bear plodding 
clumsily across the grass led by one of the stable boys, 
and suddenly everything grew black around the little 
invalid. He turned whiter than his collar for a second 
and lay back in his chair weakly. Alanna promptly 
applied a restorative and would then have wheeled him 
back into the house had he not caught her arm and 
cried frantically: 

“Please, may I go down there? Please. I want to 
get close to that old bear. I think, I think he's dear 
old Cinny.” 

“Indeed you will not move an inch from where you 
are unless it's into bed, my lad,” insisted Alanna firmly. 
“Lark,” she called, bending over the railing. “Take 
the beast away, child. It's frightened this poor lamb 
up here nearly to death.” 

“Alanna, don’t call our Pal a beast,” shrieked Raven, 
appearing now in the circle below. “He's a dear, gentle, 
old fellow, aren’t you, Pal?” and fearlessly Raven 
stepped over to her strange pet and threw her arms 
about his neck. 

“I wouldn't do that, Miss,” said the stable-boy re¬ 
spectfully. “Maybe he's tame, but you can’t tell much 
about bears, Miss. I'd rather have horses or dogs 
myself now. Honest, I would.” 

The bear stood passively enough where he had halted 
but paid no attention whatever to Raven's caress or 
Lark's greeting by way of pattings and whistlings. 

“Must I really take him away, Alanna,” begged Lark. 
“Do let him stay. He won't hurt Kid. Just wait till 
he does one stunt. I’ll play on my drum and you just 
watch him.” 

But Alanna shook her head. She had seen the pallor 
of Kid’s face and felt the excitement was all too much 
for him. 


A STOLEN VISIT 


117 


Unexpectedly, Kid half rose from his chair and leaned 
over the railing. He began to sing—a merry, lilting 
little pipe was his and the air he hummed was gay and 
catchy. Somehow it took one up amid the mountains, 
up-up-up, so cheerily and bracingly. 

“See here, look at of Pal! Look!” called out Jack 
from where he now sat straddling the old sun-dial that 
for generations had been one of the Virginian Tread¬ 
wells’ most sacred possessions. 

“Why, do look!” echoed Raven. 

“He’s going to perform,” exulted Lark. 

The bear had risen on his hind paws, had drawn 
himself erect and quite naturally began to sway to 
Kid’s music, keeping clumsy but perfect step. 

At last Kid’s song faltered. He bent further down 
and called winningly: 

“Cinny, Cinny.” Then he clucked in his throat once 
or twice and called “Cinny” again. 

The bear dropped on all fours and tried to follow 
the sound, emitting soft growls, that in a cat I would 
call purring, but not knowing the term of such demon¬ 
stration from a bear, I can give it no proper definition. 

But Kid knew. Before Alanna could stop him, he 
was astride the railing, then he caught an upright 
post and slid, dropping lightly but in an exhausted 
state on the grass below at Cinny’s very feet. Weakly 
he threw up his arms and caught the bear around his 
shaggy neck. 

“Cinny, dear old Cinny,” he whispered. 

“Oh, he knows you. It’s your bear, isn’t it Kid?” 
shrieked Lark. “Hurrah! Hurrah!”— 

“Yippetty! Ain’t this fun? ” crooned Jack from the 
sun-dial, rocking back and forth in glee. 

Raven alone was speechless and poor Cinny could 
only growl and grunt his recognition while he kissed 
his little master’s hair and eyes and pale young face. 



The bear had risen on his hind paws . . . 

to Kid’s music. 


and quite naturally began to sway 























































































































































CHAPTER XIII 


DOWN NEAR THE RELIC HOUSE 

They were radiantly happy days which followed for 
Kid. From a lonely little vagrant he was transformed 
as though by magic, into a young princeling. A prince¬ 
ling who stood under the arch of a perpetual rainbow 
with fairy gifts unnumbered raining down gloriously 
into his already overflowing “pot of gold. ,, 

And the fact that the wonderful whirl of fortune’s 
wheel in his behalf, did not succeed in turning his 
steady young head was really the very best fairy gift 
of all had Kid but known it. 

He was happy, he was appreciative of every kind¬ 
ness, he was heartily grateful and yet, he was all these 
things with the same shy, simple ease of manner that 
he had shown when accepting Mr. Bob’s hospitality 
by the roadside. 

From the hour of his recognition of Cinny, the bear, 
his recovery became a thing of leaps and bounds. Dr. 
Raleigh declared himself delighted with what he called 
his “quick come back.” 

Perhaps many things were answerable for Kid’s 
rapid convalescence, not the least being, the tender 
and personal care of his devoted nurse, Mrs. Wayne, 
under her “make believe” title “Miss Milly,” but she 
has always maintained that the real spur to all Kid’s 
returning vitality was given the afternoon of the day 
following his picturesque meeting with Cinny. 

Dr. Raleigh was very insistent upon afternoon naps 
on the sleeping porch for his little patient, and from 
one of these Kid awoke just about sunset time to find 
his nurse smiling joyously down upon him. 

119 


120 


JACK 


Strangely enough, with her alone of all his new 
friends Kid had remained shyly aloof. At times a lit¬ 
tle ache crept into her heart that he alone of all chil¬ 
dren had failed to love her in return for a love which 
reached out always to all little ones the world over. 

“If he is my little son,” she used to say to herself 
very often during these days of his illness, “he must 
just naturally turn to me sometime. Oh, every proof 
but that is in his favor over little Jack, and yet, that 
one proof is my dear little rogue, Jackie’s only claim. 
Dear God, please help us find out the truth and help 
us to do Thy will towards both of these, Thy little 
lambs.” 

But it was not sadly nor in puzzled tones that she 
spoke to Kid in that happy, sunset hour of which I 
began to tell you. 

“Wake up, little Boy Blue,” she chanted merrily. 
“Let me help you wash and dress, dear. An old friend 
of yours has come to see you. He is waiting for you 
downstairs.” 

Kid rubbed his eyes and looked up at her in bewilder¬ 
ment. 

“A friend of mine, Miss Nurse? I ain’t got no 
friends at all ’cept all you folks here.” Then, as a sud¬ 
den, chilling fear fell upon him, he added beseechingly: 

“It ain’t a man is it, Miss Nurse? A man what says 
I’m his boy. Oh—oh—” wildly now, “don’t you be¬ 
lieve him. Don’t you believe him. I ain’t—anybody’s 
boy but, but—yours.” He stopped suddenly and tried 
hard to control his quivering little face and body. 

Suddenly and swiftly, Mrs. Wayne slipped her strong 
young arms under his frail frame and holding him 
fast in her warm embrace, pillowed his head on her 
shoulder. 

“Hush, darling,” she whispered tenderly. “Put your 
arms around my neck and hold me very tight. There, 
do you think anyone could take you away from me 


DOWN NEAR THE RELIC HOUSE 


121 


now, little Kid ? Just relax when you can, darling, and 
remember every second that no man who says you are 
his boy can make me believe him. I’m not afraid of any 
Jed Carson, honey, and no one can ever, ever take you 
away from me now, remember that.” 

A little shiver ran through Kid’s body. Then his 
arms encircled her neck in an embrace almost strang¬ 
ling. Slowly after that, the tenseness of his taut, young 
nerves gave way and he lay quietly for a moment to 
ask at last, very softly, very shyly: 

“Lady, do yer, do yer, honest, and true, meant it? 
’Bout no one ever taking me away from you, ever?” 

“Yes, Kid,” she answered simply. 

“Oh,” eager-eyed now, “do yer, do yer think I’m yer 
boy after all? Are yer, are yer truly my Mother? 
I’ve made believe to myself that yer was just for fun, 
Lady.” 

He lay in her embrace very calm and happy now. 
She smiled at him lovingly. “Every one else thinks I 
am, Kid dear. I myself do not know, but one thing I 
can promise, darling, that whether I am your real 
mother or not, I will be your mother in every sense of 
the word if you will let me. I will keep you for my 
boy, too, as well as little Jack.” 

Kid’s honest eyes glistened. “I’m so glad,” he said 
softly. “And kin I call yer Mother, same as Jack 
does?” 

“Please do,” urged Mrs. Wayne with an eagerness 
equal to his own. But now, dear boy, your guest awaits 
you. No, he is not an enemy, little Kid. This is a real 
friend, tried and true. Let us hurry so you can go 
see him. Shall we?” 

“Yes’m, yes’m. I want to so much,” laughed Kid 
happily now and from that moment his shyness with 
her vanished as a fog rolls silently away before the 
sun. 

Five minutes later a bright-eyed woman and a frail 


122 


JACK 


but equally bright-eyed lad tripped gayly down the 
broad front staircase of Jasmine Knoll and crossed 
the old Colonial hall-way to a side entrance. 

Kid hesitated in front of one of the sitting rooms and 
looked expectantly in. 

“Oh, he wouldn't come in, Kid, he wanted to wait for 
you out here in the nice spring air. This way, laddie!" 

Unsuspectingly, Kid followed her across the lawn. 
They were close to the old Relic house; they were be¬ 
neath its vines; they were on the little knoll and then, 
oh then, happy, happy Kid! 

A “friend" most surely awaited him, a friend who 
at his approach raised a sleek, black head, then tossed 
his black locks out of his eyes, stood still where he was 
under an ancient willow tree and—no—did not, speak 
—not exactly—but whinnied with all the intelligence 
and devotion of a noble horse's big heart. 

“Jim, Jim, my Jim!" screamed little Kid and flew 
to his dumb pal with all his boy heart in his own cry 
of greeting. 

“Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Lark from behind the willow 
tree. 

“Cheers—hurrah!" shouted Jack from the door-way 
of the Relic House. 

“Isn't he just beautiful? Nice old Jim!" crooned 
Raven, lover of all pets, peering around at Kid from 
the other side of Jim. 

“Isn't he though?" exulted Kid proudly, poking his 
head around to look at her, as a result of which a dull 
bump sounded and the wonderful Jim lost the caresses 
of both of his admirers for a moment as each rubbed 
his and her smarting head. Then both joined in the 
chorus of good-natured laughter around them and the 
hour of Kid's permanent recovery to health was re¬ 
corded on the loyal old sun-dial which had watched and 
registered the joys and sorrows of all inmates of 
Jasmine Knoll for scores and scores of years. 


DOWN NEAR THE RELIC HOUSE 


123 


At last Kid looked around for Mrs. Wayne but she 
had vanished. Her keen wit and tender understanding 
of children had shown her that Kid needed Doctor or 
Nurse no longer. 

“Now I must do my best to prove whether or not 
he is rightful claimant, dear little Kid,” she mused as 
she walked swiftly back to the house. “Oh, dear, am 
I entirely wrong? Did I take to Jackie merely be¬ 
cause I love all children so much, else why have I grown 
to cherish Kid so tenderly, too? What, oh what is the 
solution? Dear Madonna Mia as little Kid calls you, 
hear another Mother’s prayer and guide her in her 
search for her little lost son.” 

When she reached the house it was to find that at 
Mr. Treadwell’s invitation, her husband, Cousin Pru¬ 
dence and little Jacqueline were awaiting her. After 
her strain of the past two weeks, she gave a little low 
cry of perfect happiness and relief. 

“Hilary! Jacqueline darling! Prudy!” she exclaimed, 
welcoming them all in one glad burst of thankfulness! 

“Tut, tut, Agnes. Don’t be silly!” remarked Miss 
Prudence, rising majestically, beads and bangles dang¬ 
ling. At the ominous creak which re-echoed from her 
chair as she rose, Mrs. Wayne’s tears changed to 
laughter and once again, mirth saved the day. 

“Agnes, you look tired and worried. This strain has 
been too great. I am sorry I consented to the plan,” 
exclaimed Mr. Wayne remorsefully, when he at last 
had a few moments alone with his wife, after the first 
demonstrative greetings of affectionate little Jacque¬ 
line and the voluble ones of Miss Prudence had sub¬ 
sided to some extent. 

“Nonsense, Hilary,” she laughed playfully, smooth¬ 
ing out a deep pucker between his eyes. “Worried I 
may be, just a trifle perhaps, but oh, my dear, not tired. 
If-Kid is really my little son, could I have calmly sat 


124 


JACK 


at home and let anyone else nurse him ? I am too proud 
of my skill for that, to say nothing whatever of my 
mother-love.” 

“Kid is not the first boy that skill has been exerted 
for, is he?” he teased back, re-assured now by her 
bantering tone. “I know one it rescued from the very 
gates of death, eh?” and his boyish laugh rang out 
merrily. 

“Daddy himself! Wasn’t it Mumpie?” chimed in 
Jacqueline, the irrepressible. “I know that story! But 
oh, where is Kid and is he truly my brother and not 
nice, jolly little Jack? Oh, I did love Jack so—Mumpie, 
where are you going?—oh—” for Mrs. Wayne had 
started slightly with her eyes on a tiny shadow in the 
hallway and then breaking away from her dear ones 
had hurried in the direction of a faint sound on the 
stair-case. 

“Kid, dear, are you ill? Do you want me?” she 
called in a low, anxious tone. 

“No’m thank you kindly,” came back Kid’s answer 
bashfully. “I sure didn’t mean to bother yer, lady. 
I just a-wanted yer to come and-and see Jim some more. 
I wanted to thank yer, too, for getting him for me.” 

“Yes, yes, Miss Milly, we all want you to come back 
and play with us,” caroled Lark, “Jim wants to get 
better acquainted with you, doesn’t he, Kid?” 

“What made you run away, Miss Milly?” whined 
Raven. “You knew very well it was story felling time 
at the Relic House.” 

“Oh my! Oh me!” laughed Mrs. Wayne, whirling 
around to peer first into one corner of the hall and 
then into another. “There are so many ghosts and 
goblins around here in the gloaming, I fear I’m sur¬ 
rounded. Which way shall I run, Kid ?” 

Much childish laughter now and a new voice. 

“Don’t cher run at all, Mother. I’ll take care of you,” 
and sturdy Jack advanced to throw both arms about 


DOWN NEAR THE RELIC HOUSE 


125 


her. “Come on back with us,” he coaxed. “Jim's wait¬ 
ing for the whole crowd. Come on.” 

“Oh, Mumpie, Mumpie! I hear Jack. I'm coming!” 
cried a wildly excited Jacqueline, escaping suddenly 
from the vigilance of “Daddy” and “Cousin Prudy” 
in the room beyond. 

“Jack! Jack! Goody, goody! I knew it was you. 
Oh, I'm so glad to see you again. Goody !-Goody!” 

And up and down before Mrs. Wayne and little Jack 
danced a deliriously happy little girl. A little girl to¬ 
wards whom Raven crept closer and closer with sur¬ 
prise and delight and curiosity all blended in the eager 
expression of her big, black eyes. 

“Hello!” exclaimed Jack genially, grinning up at 
Jacqueline Wayne. “You here, too, huh? Raven, this 
is the girl I told you 'bout. The one that found the 
secret slide with Rob and me at Grandy-dad's.” 

“What is this, Jack? What is this?” came now 
in the deep voice of Sir Gilbert and tap, tap, tap came 
his cane along the front porch. Soon, he too, had 
joined the circle at the foot of the stairs. He was 
smiling as he flashed on the electric current and flooded 
the old hall with a brilliant glow of light. 

Mrs. Wayne nodded to him gayly as she stood en¬ 
compassed on all sides by childish faces. Sir Gilbert 
bowed back gallantly. 

There was no antagonism in the old nobleman's heart 
now against her. She had won him easily as she did 
the children. Before a day had passed from the time 
he had forbidden Jack to speak to her, he had called 
the child and said stiffly, but honorably: 

“Jack, my boy, I was wrong about the lady who is 
nursing the sick lad upstairs. Be with her all you 
care to. Name her whatever you please. I will fight 
her claim to the bitter end, but I'll fight as she does, 
good-temperedly. She is a fine, sweet woman, little 


126 


JACK 


Jack. You need her tenderness, I guess. Enjoy her 
friendship with the other young folks. Grandy-dad 
was too hard on you both.” 

“Hurrah!” Jack had shouted and had hurled his 
arms around his guardian’s neck, then had torn off to 
find her whom all others might call, “Miss Milly” or 
“Mrs. Wayne” as they chose, but whom he would call 
“Mother” always now, come what would. 

Hence only good feeling appeared to prevail as Sir 
Gilbert advanced on the evening of which I write. 

“There’s Jacqueline, Grandy-dad,” reminded Jack. 

“Bless my heart, indeed it is little Miss Jacqueline. 
Glad to see you again, my dear, I’m sure,” the old 
gentleman said warmly, and extended both hands. 

“Why-ee-Sir Gilbert! Isn’t this nice ? I didn’t know 
you were here,” said Jacqueline delightfully. “I’m real 
glad to see you,” she went on graciously, “You haven’t 
opened the secret slide yet, have you?” 

“Secret slide? Ahem! Well, I should say not. No 
indeed, Miss Jacqueline. Did I not promise a certain 
young lady an invitation to that big event, to the party, 
eh?” He was shaking his finger at her merrily now, 
but lo, their conversation was doomed to interruption. 

A decided stamp from Raven’s small foot, the ap¬ 
pearance of Raven’s fretful little face at Jacqueline’s 
elbow and the sound of Raven’s most imperious tones 
demanding explanation broke in upon their dialogue. 

“Grandfather, you must ask Lark and me, too, if 
there’s to be a party and Kid more than any of us be¬ 
cause he’s been so sick.” 

“Of course, of course, Gilberta,” he agreed with 
twinkling eyes. “Come now, be a good girl and we 
will talk this over. Come in here with Miss Jacqueline 
and myself. Come, Lark. Come, Jack. I fancy, Kid, 
my boy, that Mrs. Wayne wants you for a moment, 
then you can join us, too, and with a glance of under¬ 
standing at Mrs. Wayne he moved across the hall to 


DOWN NEAR THE RELIC HOUSE 


127 


his son's library, leaving Mrs. Wayne free to introduce 
Kid, with as little excitement as possible, to Mr. Wayne 
and Miss Prudence. 

“Are you truly Jack's sister or are you Kids?" de¬ 
manded Raven sharply, introducing herself to Jacque¬ 
line by merely poking her head forward and peering 
at the other little girl across the dividing expanse of 
Sir Gilbert's shirt front as he strode into the library 
of Jasmine Knoll with a small maid on either side of 
him. 

Jacqueline's curly head bobbed forward, too. She 
smiled at Raven radiantly. “I don’t know," she re¬ 
plied honestly, “but I love Jack. Kid looks nice, too, 
don't you think ? What is your name ? Everyone calls 
you something different, seems to me." 

“I'm Raven. Raven Treadwell. My long name is 
Gilberta Jasmine Treadwell, but I hate it. It's so—so 
—stiff. I like the Jasmine part all right but that can't 
be shortened," she complained. 

“Oh, yes, it can," chuckled Jack. “Call it Jazz. Huh, 
Lark?" 

“Ha! Ha! Ha!" came Lark's teasing peal in chorus 
with Jack's. 

“Don't mind them," consoled Sir Gilbert, pinching 
Raven's fast flushing cheek. “You and I and little 
Miss Jacqueline will leave them out of our secret if 
they are not careful, my dear." 

“No, no," screamed Jack. “It's my slide. Isn’t it, 
Grandy-dad? You can't leave me out no how or Gil 
either, he's my pal now same as Rob is when I'm home." 

“What's behind the slide, anyway? Tell us Grand¬ 
father, do please," begged gentlemanly Lark, not for¬ 
getting to give his twin a pat on the head as he came 
near her. Of course it was up to Raven to understand 
that a fellow couldn't show her in any other way how 
sorry he felt if his laughing hurt her feelings. Raven 
was never far from first in Lark's big heart. 


128 


JACK 


Meanwhile, across the hall in another room, shy little 
Kid Carson was turning from the awe-inspiring gaze 
of an-old lady who peered at him through at least three 
different sets of gold bowed glasses to meet the humor¬ 
ous eyes of a boyish-looking man, very straight and 
very handsome, who smiled down at the small boy be¬ 
fore him most kindly and said pleasantly: 

“Well, sir, how do you like me for a father, eh? 
Whether you are my missing son and heir I am not 
quite certain but we are near relatives at all events. 
Why, we are as like as two peas, my boy.” 

Kid’s quiet smile lighted up his delicate young face 
for a second. With one of his quaint little airs of 
ease, he answered swiftly and unexpectedly: 

“I wish you was my father, sir. I’d be in luck sure. 
But I think you must be Jack’s. Leastways you talk 
just like him.” 

“Tut, tut. Stuff and nonsense, child! Anyone with 
eyes in their head would know a Wayne when they 
saw one. You have the features, the carriage and 
the manner of the family. I know the marks of my 
race, surely. I am not so old that I am blind as some 
I’ll not mention,” and with a sniff of disdain for both 
Mr. and Mrs. Wayne, Cousin Prudence as the oldest 
survivor of her illustrious family and its traditions, 
swept down upon Kid and overpowered him with the 
majesty of her greeting. 


CHAPTER XIV 


MOSTLY NONSENSE 

“Kid! Kid! Are you awake? Ask Nurse Milly if I 
may come in,” called Lark’s voice gayly through the 
transom, the following morning. 

“Sure. Come ahead,” urged an equally gay-voiced 
Kid hospitably. 

Lark came, landing on the closet floor with his usual 
light-footed sort of a bounce. He pushed the closet 
door open and sprang into the room, preparing to turn 
a hand spring as he came. Kid had been such a polite 
and cordial audience during his convalescence, to their 
acrobatic stunts, that truth to tell Lark and Jack im¬ 
posed on his good-nature at times almost to the point 
of boredom. 

This particular morning Kid had chosen to turn the 
tables on them and was holding the centre of the stage 
himself, so to speak. 

Lark forgot his hand-spring and stared at Kid with 
very wide open blue eyes. “Why, you’re dressed,” he 
exclaimed at last. 

“Of course I am. So are you,” reminded Kid amiably. 

Lark grinned. “That’s so,” he assented, “but smart 
Alec! I’m in the habit of being up and dressed at this 
time and you’re not. You’re always in bed when we 
go down to breakfast. Why, we’ve met Miss Milly and 
helped her carry your tray heaps of times. What’s 
up?” 

“I am,” remarked Kid coolly. 

Lark stepped over to the bed and let a pillow fly 
straight at Kid’s head, as answer to that sally. 

129 


130 


JACK 


Kid sent it back with an aim that smothered up 
Lark’s over-confident laugh. 

“Great!” commented Lark, as soon as he could speak. 
“Why, you’re all better, aren’t you, old chap? I sure 
am glad. More fun for us all, I’ll say and then some. 
Where’s Miss Milly? Shucks! I’ll have to begin to 
call her Mrs. Wayne but it’s hard when we came tp 
know her and like her as Nurse Milly, isn’t it?” 

“She’s gone,” Kid said sorrowfully. “She came and 
bade me good-bye late last night. Asked me to say 
it for her to all the rest o’ you.” 

“Gone!” Lark’s usually happy voice became one 
long wail of protest. “Gone? Where to, Kid?” 

“Washington first, I guess,” explained Kid, “and 
then, from there after she sees the lawyers and all, 
she’s a-going to old man Carson’s to get the whole story 
out o’ him, how he found me and all.” 

“Oh, I see,” Lark said, breathing freely once more. 
“She’s just off to trace up some more of that Sherlock 
Holmes stuff about you and Jack. I say, Kid. I wonder 
which of you really is the Wayne boy. I often think 
about it at night when I get to bed and wish they’d 
let me dig out the evidence for them. I’d love to be 
a detective. It’s big stuff. Guess I’ll try for that pro¬ 
fession when I’m a man,” and Lark seated himself on 
the foot of the bed and drew up one knee to his chin, 
and hugging that tight, kept his other foot swinging 
merrily. 

“They are all mixed up again, I think,” Kid said 
slowly. “When Mr. Bob saw my ring with the name on 
it, and how much I looked like Mr. Wayne, that night 
back there in the woods, why everyone ’cept Mrs. 
Wayne, felt as he did, that I was the sure enough feller. 
But come to sift it down and putting all the things 
together that ole man Carson up and told ’em, it looks 
like they’re thrown way off the track. Yer see, I’m 
older’n Jack by two years, ’cordin’ to Carson’s say so. 


MOSTLY NONSENSE 


131 


He found me on his doorstep three years afore ever 
Jack was lost at all. That's what's putting 'em at 
sixes and sevens. But I look like the Waynes and the 
old lady, Miss Prudence, says I sure must be the boy 
that's lost. Mrs. Wayne and Mr. Wayne don't know 
what to think, but I'm to be their boy, too, even if 
Jack is the really, truly one, Mrs. Wayne told me so 
and he promised me too, when he and I went out to 
put Jim up last night together.'' 

“He, who's he?" queried Lark, deeply interested. 

“Mr. Wayne," replied Kid softly, a glimmer of warm 
pride in his quiet eyes. “Oh, whiz! Lark, but I hope 
he is my father. I'd be the luckiest boy alive." 

“He's great," assented Lark. “Daddy's keen for him. 
Wished he could have stayed longer and all. But Mrs. 
Wayne is grand, isn't she? I didn't know she was 
going too. Who'll take care of you now?" 

“Miss Alanna," Kid answered quite simply. “Least- 
ways, that's what my Lady Nurse said, but I'm going 
to surprise 'em all and take keer of myself a bit. I've 
been an awful baby, making folks coddle me so long. 
How Jed Carson would jeer at me if he ever knew it." 
And though Kid tried to laugh, in spite of his newly- 
acquired strength, he shuddered as he thought of his 
old enemy Jed. 

“Oh, I say, forget that Rough Neck," counseled Lark 
wisely. “Tell me more about your father, I mean Mr. 
Wayne and you going out to see Jim last night. I for¬ 
got all about poor Jim. He'd have been on the Relie 
House lawn all night for all of me," remorsefully. 

“I couldn't forget him," explained Kid softly. “Why, 
Lark," laughing gleefully now, “I've been out to the 
stables to see him already this very morning." 

Lark leaped to his feet. “You have! Hurrah for 
you, Kid! Why, you are as good as new then, aren’t 
you ? My, but you and Jack and I will have some sport 
from now on. Come let's run down and be at break- 


132 


JACK 


fast when the rest straggle along. It will take the 
sleep out of all their eyes when they see you sitting 
there, proud as Punch and twice as natural. Come 
ahead. Let’s rush it.” 

And seizing Kid by the shoulder, buoyant Lark 
triumphantly led him from what had been until this 
moment his sick-room, out into his own gay zone of 
sunny skies and laughing ways where fun and frolic 
abounded. 

“Here we are,” shouted Lark at last, ushering Kid 
out on to a small breakfast porch where the family of 
Jasmine Knoll always ate, once the soft May breezes 
began to play around the old Virginian estate. 

Tinkle! Tinkle! rang out a little bell jubilantly, as 
Lark gave a few happy, vigorous pulls at the cord 
which controlled it before he sat down and waved Kid 
into a neighboring chair. 

“Morning Uncle,” he greeted an old man servant very 
cheerily, who came in answer to his summons. “This 
is Kid Carson, I mean Kid Wayne, a pal of mine. Bring 
us in our eats first, will you? We’re too hungry to 
wait for the rest of the crew. Aren’t we, Kid?” 

“Deed I will, sah! Yaes indeed,” and with a friend¬ 
ly smile wreathing his kind black face, “Uncle Tom,” 
as the dear old fellow was called by all who knew him, 
hurried away to satisfy the appetites of those two 
happy-faced lads. 

Peace did not reign long however on the breakfast 
porch, for as Uncle Tom came back with the big treat 
of the morning, early strawberries from the green 
houses of Jasmine Knoll, he laid them down on the 
heavy old serving stand for a second, to hand the boys 
their fruit saucers. What was his consternation upon 
turning around to place the handsome dish of glowing 
berries in the center of the table, to find that both 
dish and contents had disappeared as though by magic. 


MOSTLY NONSENSE 


133 


“Laws—a—mercy!” he gasped. “Where they done 
gone to, Massa Lark ?” 

“What Uncle ?” asked Lark, turning in surprise. 

“Why, dem berries, Sah! as I just a put down heah, 
this very ident’cal minute, Sah.” 

“Oh, Uncle Tom,” laughed Lark, “you're dreaming. 
Come now. You forgot I reckon. Thought you brought 
them in, huh ?” 

“No,” broke in Kid in puzzled tones. “He's right. 
He did bring in some berries. I saw them. They were 
in a big, wonderful glass dish. Why, they were right 
there a second ago. I can’t see what could have hap¬ 
pened to them, honest.” And Kid rubbed his eyes and 
looked again. 

So did Uncle Tom. Both their faces looked so funny 
in their bewilderment that Lark laughed almost hys¬ 
terically. 

“Why, you're both dreaming. You must be,” he 
chokingly gasped at last. “How could a dish of ber¬ 
ries walk off, I'd like to know? Kid, you must have 
seen them through the slide in the butler's pantry. 
Uncle Tom, you’ll find them right back of the slide on 
the shelf, see?” And unconvinced Lark rose, hurried 
over to the slide in question and put in his hand. 

“Ouch!” he exclaimed and drew it back. “Come on, 
Kid,” he called. “Something caught my hand and tried 
to bite it. Say, do you suppose Cinny broke loose and 
got into the house? Do bears eat berries? Come see 
if we can catch him or whatever it is. It's in the but¬ 
ler's pantry. Uncle Tom, go around the other way 
will you and bolt the door leading into the kitchen. 
Cinny might be rough if he is hungry. But Kid, you 
can tame him. He knows you like—like” 

“Gw-w-w” came a low, deep growl from the dim, 
narrow pantry as Lark and Kid at this point pushed 
open the door and entered, side by side. For an in- 


134 


JACK 


stant Lark stepped back startled, then manfully pressed 
forward. 

“Come back Massa Lark, Sah. Do,” pleaded Uncle 
Tom pitfully. “I done never 'proved of that there bar 
from the firstest. Bars ain't pets same as dogs and cats. 
No, Sah. Oh, honey-boy-you done mus cum back shere, 
dat you must.” 

“Shucks!” ejaculated quiet Kid disdainfully, “this 
ain't Cinny. Cinny'd be ashamed to own up to such a 
growl. It's some one playing tricks on us. Come on in, 
Lark, and let's find 'em.” 

“Gw-w-w,” came the sound again, almost under foot 
and then in the darkness a hand caught Lark's ankle 
and a low, blood-curdling moan echoed dismally amid 
the shadows. 

Lark ducked down indignantly to investigate. A 
shelf was inconveniently in his way. For a second he 
saw stars. Kid was tripped up neatly but not violently. 
Something wriggled on the floor, something pushed its 
way through the swinging door onto the breakfast 
porch and made its way over to Lark's chair at the table. 

“Will you both have your eats before the rest of the 
crew, huh?” teased mischievous Jack's voice. “Say, 
Raven, where are you, huh? Where’s the berries?” 

“Here,” answered a muffled but merry young voice. 
“I couldn’t have scouged down back of that serving 
table another minute, Jack. Did we frighten you, 
Uncle Tom?” 

It was Raven, his beloved young mistress who 
squirmed out from behind the heavy, old, mahogany 
serving table and stooping down unearthed from be¬ 
neath its lowest shelf the dish of missing berries. 

“Laws a mercy, Missey Raven, what are you done up 
to now, ah’d like to know,” ejaculated Uncle Tom, re¬ 
lenting into a smile. 

“Jack and I heard Lark and Kid coming and we hid. 
He went into the butler's pantry. I squeezed in here. 


MOSTLY NONSENSE 


135 


I heard Lark say they wouldn’t wait for the rest, so I 
reached up and took the berries while you all were 
busy talking. Jack did stunts to Lark and Kid, I guess, 
out in the pantry,” and Raven laughed merrily. 

“Stunts? He nearly bit my fingers off,” scolded 
Lark, trying to glower at the culprits. 

“Just playin’ I was Cinny, that’s all,” explained 
Adorable innocently, but with dancing eyes. “I say, 
Kid, did I hurt you? I tried to trip you so sort of 
easy. It was just fooling, you see.” Popping a berry 
into his rosy mouth, Adorable sauntered over to Kid 
as he re-entered the room and surveyed him anxiously. 

“I’m not so easily hurt,” laughed Kid good-naturedly. 

“It takes a fall from a tree-top to break him up, eh 
Kid?” chaffed Lark. “Say, Jack, I certainly owe you 
one though. My head was nearly split open on the edge 
of that shelf. You, too, Raven! Kid, we just must get 
even with them, don’t you say so?” 

“Rat-a-tat,” came a new interruption. Alanna’s 
motherly face came in through the half open door. 

“If you all weren’t such boisterous, ill-bred children 
this morn, maybe I’d have had a treat for you,” she 
chided reproachfully. 

“Morning, Alanna!” 

“Oh, hurrah, Alanna!” 

“Do come on with the treat!” 

“I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” came the chorus. 

Alanna smiled, a rare, half-serious smile. 

“It’s for good little Master Kid’s sake only I’ll grant 
the treat. He will know how to be a gentleman and be 
good to her. In with you lassie, but I fear it’s into a 
wild, outlaw’s den I’m leading you, more’s the pity and 
all of them supposed to be well-bred children, too.” 

“Good-morning, everyone! I’m here,” rang out a 
sweet, young voice and joyous little Jacqueline whirled 
into the midst of the soft morning sunbeams, looking 


136 


JACK 


for all the world a sunbeam herself, so buoyant, so 
radiant a small personality was she. 

“Oh, Jacqueline, you stayed! You stayed! I'm so 
glad,” screamed Raven, rushing over impulsively to 
hug this first girl friend she had ever taken to whole¬ 
heartedly. 

“Yes, Mumpie said I might stay until she returned,” 
nodded Jacqueline happily. “Mr. Treadwell, your 
Daddy, begged her to let me stay and visit you. Sir 
Gilbert begged too. It may be only for a day or two 
but isn't it jolly?” 

“Hurrah, hurrah!” agreed the boys, echoing Raven's 
joy. 

“Raven will have some one to play with now 'sides 
us,” chuckled Jack. “We fellows can do our own stunts. 
Hurrah! No more Red Light for mine. Hurrah!” And 
impish Jack proceeded to dance a double shuffle. 

“You’ll all have to play with us just the same, won't 
they, Jacqueline?” demanded Raven in her most 
“bossy” of tones. 

“No indeed,” challenged Jacqueline spiritedly. “We 
don't need them at all, Raven. We’ll have fun for our¬ 
selves. I love Red Light, too. We can play it alone. 
It's not quite so much fun though,” she added honestly. 
“Oh, I know! Kid is nice. He’ll play it with us, won't 
you, Kid?” 

And in spite of the bandying of Lark and Jack, Kid 
rose to the occasion grandly and gallantly pledged away 
his rights to more agreeable, masculine diversions by 
saying simply: 

“Yes'm. I'll be glad to. Thanky.” 

“You certainly are nice,” commented Raven sincerely. 

“Goody—Goody!” laughed Jacqueline. 

Moans from Jack and Lark. 


CHAPTER XV 


RED LIGHTS 

Lark and Jack were on their way to the stables, one 
armed with a tool-box, the other with an object re¬ 
sembling somewhat the frame work of a kite. 

“Duck down back of the hedge,” whispered Lark 
warningly. “They’re playing on the side lawn. I hear 
them.” 

“Huh!” grinned Jack. “What’s the odds? We don’t 
have to play, do we ? Guess not. Raven’s got Kid but 
we’re free, you bet.” 

Lark laughed but looked worried nevertheless. 

“I’ve tried to get away from Raven before,” he re¬ 
minded Jack ruefully with the air of one accustomed 
to failure in this regard. 

“Pshaw! Don’t be a silly,” scoffed Jack with the ut¬ 
most good-nature. “Just you follow me. We don’t 
have to do what girls want all the time. ’Taint fair,” 
and tossing his coppery head up in true man fashion, 
Adorable marched boldly on his way. 

But a great Bard of Scotland whom we all love 
chieflly because he wrote of simple, every day sort of 
things, was absolutely right when he sang of “The best 
laid plans of mice and men gang aft astray.” Our boys 
were to experience the truth of the quotation. 

Shoulder to shoulder they marched down the gravel 
walk laughing and joking and purposely avoiding to 
glance at the group on the other side of the box hedge. 
They could not make themselves deaf, however, to the 
commanding voice of Raven, when addressing her com¬ 
rades militantly, carried far on the May-day breeze. 

137 


138 


JACK 


“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, 
ten,” she counted rapidly, shouting out triumphantly 
at the end “Red Light” and whirling around swiftly 
from her position facing North. “Kid, I caught you 
again fair and square. Come straight back here. Three 
long steps and a hop. Come.” 

“Do you think he ought to hop, Raven ?” questioned 
Jacqueline anxiously. “He’s been so ill, you know.” 

“Well,” relented the other little girl, “you can make 
the hop a step then, Kid. Oh, you hopped away. I 
can’t help it now, can I? But anyhow, next time 
I’ll remember and give you only steps.” 

“No, please,” remonstrated Kid firmly. “If I’m 
agoing to play I want to play straight same as you’uns 
do, but” wistfully now, “it’s terrible slow, ain’t it 
though? Seems like a fellow don’t get anywheres in 
this here game.” 

A half-mothered burst of laughter came from the 
other side of the hedge. Kid looked up gloomily to 
behold Lark’s merry countenance and Jack’s roguish 
one beaming teasingly on him from their vantage point. 
Jacqueline saw them, too, and smiled cordially. She 
sincerely hoped they had decided to play. It would 
make it so much jollier for Kid and on second thought 
she added “jollier for us all.” Jacqueline’s nature was 
decidedly friendly. 

Raven saw them and became fretful. “It isn’t a slow 
game at all, Kid,” she protested. “You don’t know 
how to play it, that’s why. Try to remember what 
we’ve told you. You must be perfectly still when I 
whirl around or you’re caught. So that’s all there 
is to it. Collie plays better than you do.” 

Though Kid winced a bit at the rebuke, he had to 
laugh too, for Collie, Lark’s handsome white and tan 
dog that always shared the children’s play, had come 
forward the “three steps and hop” with Kid whom he 


RED LIGHTS 


139 


liked and sat looking up at him adoringly, red tongue 
out, brown eyes worshipful and plumy tail beating the 
earth, as though to say, “Cheer up Kid, cheer up.” 

“I say,” Jack called mischievously; “That's a no 
account game anyhow, Kid. Don't you care whether 

you learn it or not. It's dull as, as-'rithmetic or 

scoldings or girly story books. Come on, play with us.” 

The look in Kid's blue eyes went somehow straight to 
Adorable's heart as the tramp-boy answered simply: 

“I can't. I promised.” 

“Yes you did,” reminded Raven sternly. 

“Oh, but we could release him, Raven,” exclaimed 
Jacqueline eagerly. She came forward to Kid's side 
in her bright, cordial way. “He may be tired, Raven, 
standing so long on his feet,” she went on coaxingly. 

“You've moved almost twenty steps, Jacqueline 
Wayne,” announced unrelenting Raven. “I caught you 
fair and square. Now we’ll begin again. You and Kid 
are both almost where you started from. Lark! You 
and Jack make me tired. Why don't you go along 
and play, Tong as you want to. We aren't stopping 
you, I’m sure,” she added airily and whirled about once 
more. 

“Come on, Lark,” called Jack, vaulting over the 
hedge. “Let's give her something to play for. She's 
so smart. Hurry up, Jazz,” he continued tauntingly, 
“give us our number of steps and wait and see how 
quick we’ll put the old Red Light out. Watch me, Kid. 
I'll show you a trick or two.” 

“Thought you weren't going to play Red Light any 
more,” reminded Lark as he dropped his tools and also 
cleared the hedge smiling broadly all the while. 

“Oh, huh! 'Twas an S. 0. S. signal from Kid, I 
guess,” explained Jack, and at that Lark and he laughed 
heartily as though at a fine joke known only to them¬ 
selves. 

Raven who had wheeled about, regarded them with 



140 


JACK 


a frown for a second, and then her face lighted up 
radiantly. 

“So that's what you're trying to make!" she said, 
clapping her hands. “I thought first it was a kite. It's 
a wireless; Oh, goody! Let us all help. You must, and 
Jacqueline and I will go out on the pond on my raft 
and we'll pretend to get ship-wrecked and send you a 
message. What fun!" 

“Wireless? What do you mean?" asked Jacqueline 
and Kid. 

Jack shook his head at Lark and answered curtly: 

“We're playing Red Light, I’ll say. How many steps, 
Raven? Hustle." 

“All right," compromised Raven, “but you boys must 
show us your new game afterwards. Won't you, 
Lark ?" she implored her twin. 

“Guess so," he nodded glancing at Jack. “It’s half 
Jack's you see. I can't unless he's willing." 

“Oh, Jack," remarked Raven scornfully. “He 
wouldn't tell to save his life if he thought it was teas¬ 
ing someone. He must like you, Kid," she nodded. 
“He wouldn't play Red Light to please anyone else. He 
hates it." 

“I won't play now," he announced suddenly, “unless 
you all hurry up,” but his brown eyes twinkled at Kid 
encouragingly and he gave Jacqueline a friendly grin. 

“Ready!" called Raven. “Attention! Get in line, 
Lark, you’re lagging! Now!" and the game was on. 

This time Kid found it endurable, for all were in 
high spirits and Jack as funny and nimble as a monkey. 
The others made mis-steps not calculating on Raven's 
swiftness in counting, but never once was Jack caught. 
He made distance rapidly yawn between himself and 
Raven after giving Kid a hint or two to go by, but 
always pulled himself up into rigid pose before Raven’s 
shrill call of “Red Light" rang out. He was an espe¬ 
cially provoking player because while he kept his arms 


.RED LIGHTS 


141 


and legs perfectly still, according to rule, during Ra¬ 
ven's review of her forces, he rolled his eyes in the 
drollest possible way and worked his ears up and down 
grotesquely, to everyone’s intense amusement who 
stood near him, and to Raven’s complete disgust. 

“We ought to count everything,” she scolded, “and 
not just moving hands and feet.” 

“Can’t,” taunted Jack. “You’ve got to play by rule. 
Ha, Ha!” 

But with all his agility Jack was not the first one 
to disappear from view over the top of the Jasmine 
knoll. Jacqueline, swift-footed, alert and bright-eyed, 
succeeded in out-stripping him. 

Raven was quite exuberant when Jacqueline’s dis¬ 
appearance from the ranks was discovered by her sharp 
black eyes. “Hurrah, for Jacqueline!” she cheered. 
“Now, aren’t girls smarter than boys? She beat you 
all to nothing, even Jack.” 

“My turn next,” called back Jack undisturbed. 

“Come back four paces, Lark,” commanded Raven. 

Her twin good-temperedly confessed: 

“Lost my balance trying to spy Jacqueline. She sure 
did make a quick get-away.” 

“I’ll never catch you now, Kid! You are learning 
fast. You’re splendid,” praised Raven warmly. She 
was utterly frank always whether speaking in praise 
or blame and she had all a true sportsman’s love of 
playing a game thoroughly or not at all. 

Kid flushed with pleasure and held his head high. 
What a wonderful place the world was. He loved it 
better every day. It wasn’t just one long round of 
drudgery and neglect any more. No, it was a delight¬ 
ful playhouse full of splendid chums and interesting 
pastimes which latter as you learned your part in 
them, filled you with such keen relish to learn more 
and more and show your skill Mke “the other fellows.” 

“Red Light!” Kid heard the cry as though from far 


142 


JACK 


away and then found himself thrown prostrate, and 
finally he discovered that he was rolling down the little 
knoll on the opposite side from the players. He sat up 
and rubbed his eyes. 

“Kid’s gone!” He caught the echo of Raven’s cry 
of surprise. Why, he must have outstripped Jack and 
Lark. He must be close behind Jacqueline. Kid’s pale 
cheeks suddenly glowed. He felt like patting himself 
on the back and yelling hurrah. How had he accom¬ 
plished the feat, he wondered. 

Busy with happy thoughts his feet must have moved 
more swiftly than he realized. They had brought him 
all unknowingly up the knoll at the side. Traveling 
backwards he had tripped on a vine and just as the 
warning “Red Light” had peeled out, he had been saved 
from capture by rolling safely out of sight. What was 
the next part of it? Oh, he must hide. Where? He 
stood up and then sharply bent over and like a run-a- 
way rabbit glanced around anxiously striving to locate 
a safe corner. An open window of the little Relic 
House, facing his way from its location above him, 
appealed to him strongly and meanwhile Jack had 
dashed into view and with a whisper: 

“Hide-fast-as-you-can, Kid,” vanished like a shot in 
the direction of the pond. 

Lark was the last one to make his escape, unless we 
except Collie, that at this point in the game always 
turned the tables by deserting the hiding party, to 
escort the Red Light General or in this case, Generaless, 
on her rounds of search for the missing players. 

Raven liked this part of Red Light the very best. 
She chirruped happily to Collie and ran off in the direc¬ 
tion of the knoll. It was a splendid location in which 
to play the game, there were so many excellent hiding 
places thereabouts. 

“Goodness me, Collie!” she complained breathlessly 


RED LIGHTS 


143 


after a few moments’ search. “Where can they all 
be?” 

“Bow-wow!” confided Collie, for she had ordered him 
to lie down on the big* flag stone in front of the Relic 
House. Collie also beat a regular tattoo with his tail. 
He was trying hard to tell his little mistress that if 
she would only let him help her, he’d find the lost ones 
fast enough. 

“No, no Collie. You can’t help me, you darling old 
doggie. You know very well, sir, I must do it all my¬ 
self. It’s the game.” 

“Bow-wow,” consented Collie sadly now, and showed 
his dejection by dropping his lovely head upon his out¬ 
stretched paws. 

“Ah, ha! I think I see a speck down by the pond,” 
exclaimed Raven suddenly and off she flew happily in 
pursuit of restless Jack who in an unwary moment had 
shown his red head above a clump of low shrubbery. 

“Found, Jack!” announced Raven, peeping roguishly 
down at the boy where he lay stretched out flat under 
a bush at the edge of the pond. “You were real slow 
today, Mr. Smarty,” she continued tormentingly. “Said 
you’d put the Red Light out! But you didn’t, you 
didn’t,” she sang joyously, running off to find the next 
victim. 

Jack rose with his habitual grin of good cheer which 
seemed undimmed whether fate smiled on him or not 
and whistling “Bubbles” ran back to the Relic House 
to start a romp with Collie. Boy and dog were soon 
making merry on the lawn below the knoll, Jack per¬ 
forming cart-wheels, and Collie chasing him with wild 
yelps and barks of delight. 

Meanwhile, Raven persistently sought for Kid, 
Jacqueline and Lark. 

“My, but I’m tired,” she cried at last, fanning her¬ 
self with her handkerchief and ensconcing herself on a 
pile of sods with which an under gardener was en- 


144 


JACK 


deavoring to repair a blighted space in the great vel¬ 
vety stretch of grass which made Treadwell Estate 
so beautiful. 

“Pardon, Missey,” jerked out the man in a harsh 
voice. “Them sods won’t be no good if you squash ’em 
that ere way.” 

Raven turned and surveyed the man frostily. Tink- 
ham was a surly fellow. He had never accepted any 
overtures of friendship from the children. This marked 
him as different from the other servants, white or 
black. Raven rarely noticed him in any way, but today 
she decided that she “didn’t like him one bit,” and with 
her usual -frankness she made the fact evident. 

“These are my daddy’s sods, Tinkham,” she reminded 
him. “And anyway, I’m not hurting them. I’m not 
heavy enough.” “Oh,” she exclaimed suddenly, “What’s 
your wheel-barrow upside down for, Tinkham?” Her 
quick eyes were staring with a puzzled light in them at 
a huge, old, green wheel-barrow nearby, which certainly 
should not ordinarily lie over-turned while Tinkham 
was removing dead sods. Naturally, it would save the 
man time to toss the withered sods into the barrow. 
Then why was it lying thus in useless state? Raven 
rose to investigate. 

Tinkham, sod-cutter in hand, advanced, also frowning 
darkly. 

“Don’t ye interfere with my work, Missey,” he 
growled. “I ain’t hired here for a nus’ry Gov’ness, I 
ain’t. Quit hindering me at my work or I’ll tell your 
Pa, I’m through.” 

Raven’s black eyes met his scowling ones calmly. 
Her proud little mouth broke into a mischievous smile. 
Before Tinkham could prevent it she had dropped down 
on her knees and peered beneath the shadowy shelter 
of the overturned wheel-barrow. As her eyes grew 
accustomed to the dimness, another pair of eyes, starry 
and full of laughter gleamed back at her.” 


RED LIGHTS 145 

“Ha-Ha-Ha!” pealed out a silvery little laugh from 
under the rude shelter. 

“Why, Jacqueline Wayne!” shrieked Raven. “I 
never thought of it being you. I guessed it was Lark.” 
Then, Raven echoed her friend’s merry peal of mirth 
and reached in her hand to help pull Jacqueline out 
from her uncomfortable hiding-place. But surly Tink- 
ham came to the rescue by gently raising the barrow, 
saying, less gruffly than usual: 

“Rest easy, little Missey, I’ll take it away without 
harming a hair of yer head. That I will.” 

And lo! Jacqueline sat before the astonished Raven 
Turkish fashion, doubled up like a jack-knife. Her 
curls had fallen over her bright face, but her dancing 
eyes laughed out from behind this screen, undismayed. 

“I’ll help you,” exclaimed Raven, extending a friend¬ 
ly hand but like a rebounding ball, Jacqueline bounced 
up and was speedily waltzing Raven around in a gay 
little dance. 

“My dear, wasn’t that the most delicious place to 
hide in? Wasn’t it? Don’t you think so?” she de¬ 
manded all in a breath, “and wasn’t Tinkham wonder¬ 
ful and sweet to let me do it?” She turned to beam 
on the “wonderful and sweet person” who stood bash¬ 
ful and uneasy now, poking awkwardly at the very sods 
he had warned Raven to let alone. He had been “taken 
clean off his feet” as he explained it that night to the 
fellows “by the little kid-girl what looked like one of 
them angels in pictures, sort of running away and when 
she asked me smooth and pretty could she hide under 
my wheel-barrow, why, I jest tipped them sods out 
quicker’n I could think and says, says I, something 
about that there barrow being dusty. And shucks, 
when she says soft-like as how she loves dust it being 
all the more fun in the game, well now I ask you men 
what else could a chap do but humor her, eh?” And 
then amid the laughter of the other servants, Tinkham 


146 


JACK 


lighted his pipe and scowled more than ever. But in 
his heart was a gleam of something very bright and 
cheerful. Truth to tell, this surly man was more bash¬ 
ful than disagreeable, and was more afraid of children 
than children were of him. 

Jacqueline’s gay “Thank you a million times, Tink- 
ham” as she went off with Raven after her discovery, 
had left him amid his sods smiling grimly with head 
uncovered. 

“Now only Lark to find,” boasted Raven joyfully 
when she had conducted Jacqueline back to where Jack 
and Collie were still frolicking. 

“Nix!” contradicted Jack rather breathlessly. “You 
haven’t found Kid yet.” 

“Oh, lands!” exclaimed Raven dismayed. “I had for¬ 
gotten ’bout Kid. I reckon that’s because he hasn’t 
been playing every day like you other boys. Well, 
never mind, I’ll catch him. Wait and see.” 

Jacqueline and Jack did “wait” but they did not 
“see.” 

Lark was located at last up in one of the old willow 
trees. His love of mischief gave him away. He had 
not been able to refrain from dropping a marble out 
of his pocket down on Raven’s head as she passed 
under his hiding place for about the twentieth time 
during her fruitless search. His discovery was then, 
of course, immediate. 

But Kid remained safely hidden and so much time 
had been consumed that all the others joined Raven 
in her search, for lunch hour was drawing near. 

Collie, at a call from the stables, raced off to his 
rations. 

At last Lark proposed: 

“Let’s shout out to come in free. We’ll all go dif¬ 
ferent directions and then he will be sure to hear.” 

Everybody agreed and such a racket did they make 
that Jasmine Knoll Estate rang from end to end with 


RED LIGHTS 


147 


the clamor and Alanna setting their places in the din¬ 
ing-room shook her head, half sadly, half mirthfully. 

“ 'Tis not so children were allowed to fool their time 
in my day. Miss Raven-bird and sweet Jacqueline each 
should be doing a stint of patch-work had I my way.” 

All unaware of this dark design of their beloved 
Alanna, “Raven-bird” and “sweet Jacqueline” searched 
on doggedly for their missing playfellow. 

Suddenly a shout from Jack attracted the attention 
of the rest. 

“Look who's here,” laughed Jack in high glee. 

“Who?” 

“What?” 

“Where?” 

Asked the others breathlessly, racing to his side. 

Still laughing, he pointed to the door-way of the 
Relic House and at the sight they beheld all joined in 
his mirth. 

Clumsy, patient Cinny had found his way from the 
grove over back of the pond as far as the knoll, drag¬ 
ging the iron rod to which he had been tied, after him 
by a great length of heavy rope. He was very slow- 
motioned owing to his encumbrance but he was cer¬ 
tainly striving to get his huge body into the Relic 
House and he was grunting and growling alternately 
as he found entrance almost impossible. 

“Oh, the dear, funny old thing,” cried Jacqueline 
dancing up and down. 

“Cinny, what are you after, you rogue?” chided 
Lark, rushing over to his pet. “Why, there aren't any 
buns or honey in there, you silly bear. Hold on a 
second until I untie you.” 

Jack ran forward, too, and attempted to pick up the 
iron stake that Cinny had torn up when he made his 
escape from the grove. 

“Whiz! but it's heavy,” he shouted. “Cinny's some 
strong, all right.” 


148 


JACK 


“There you are, Cin! I’ve untied your anchor, old 
boy,” chaffed Lark. “Come on over to the house with 
us. We’ll give you a treat. Come!” He chirruped, he 
whistled, he coaxed, but Cinny never deigned to glance 
in his direction. Instead he gave a louder grunt than 
usual and lunged forward heavily, straight into the 
little old-fashioned Relic Room. 

“What’s he after do you suppose?” questioned Jack. 

“Don’t know,” replied Lark, watching the animal 
curiously. 

Raven and Jacqueline joined the boys just as Cinny, 
advancing slowly, reached the old-fashioned chest that 
with its high back looked like a great hall-seat in an 
old-time English picture. 

But now Cinny paused and sniffed and sniffed. He 
grunted fiercely. He poked his muzzled nose along 
the edge of the chest. He sniffed at the old rusty lock. 
Then he put both clumsy front paws on top of the 
seat itself and growled and growled. 

“Boys!” shouted Raven. “Kid’s in the chest. 
Cinny’s found him. Open it quick.” 

But when many eager hands tried to open the old 
curiosity it was found to be locked tight and fast. 

Lark, badly frightened, looked at the others and ex¬ 
claimed wildly: 

“It has never been locked since I can remember, has 
it Raven ? The old lock must have sprung today if Kid 
did get in here. Quick! We must look for the key.” 

“No, go to the stables and get men and tools,” com¬ 
manded practical Raven. “Jacqueline, run for Alanna. 
Jack.” 

But while Lark and Jacqueline obeyed her Jack sat 
calmly down on a window seat and proceeded to empty 
his pockets. 

“What are you doing?” asked Raven feverishly. 

“I have heaps of keys. I save ’em. Let’s try ’em,” 
answered Jack coolly. 


RED LIGHTS 


149 


“Do-oh, do!” begged the little girl, a gleam of pride 
in this play-fellow of hers shining in her dark eyes, 
as she watched him unearth his treasures. 

Cinny growled and poked again at the rusty key-hole 
of the chest. 

“Good old Cinny,” praised Raven, patting him ten¬ 
derly. 

Stooping, keys of all sorts scattered around him, 
Jack proceeded to try his luck calling out meanwhile: 

“Kid! Oh there! Kid! Kid! Kid! Answer me. Oh, 
you Kid!” 

But all was silence in the little Relic House when he 
paused, save Raven's quick breathing and Cinny’s low 
growl. 


CHAPTER XVI 


S. 0. S. 

Key after key Jack tried patiently, but all in vain. 
Raven waxed impatient. 

“Oh, where is Lark? Why doesn’t he come?” she 
whined. Then suddenly she darted over to the old- 
fashioned fire-place, pulled open a cupboard door on 
the left and began to search amid the contents of this 
receptacle for what she wanted. Speedily she was 
back to Jack’s side. 

“Never mind those stupid old keys. They won’t fit. 
They never do when you want ’em to. Help me break 
the lock with this. See!” 

Adorable glanced up to behold a very determined 
Raven grasping a decidedly antique hammer in her 
small hands. 

“Wheel” ejaculated Jack. “That’s a baby sledge 
hammer, I’ll say. Give it here! We’ll have this old 
lock smashed in no time. Now!” 

“Stop children!” It was Alanna’s voice speaking 
from the doorway. As she hurried across to the chest 
she explained. “Wait for some one who knows how to 
do the smashing, little Jack. If our snow-bird boy is 
in there, poor, poor darling, ’tis maybe hurting or jarr¬ 
ing him more you’d be, hammering right on top of 
him.” 

Jacqueline seeing that Lark had not yet arrived, 
flew on to meet him and to hurry the “first-aiders” on 
their way. 

Two servants appeared on the scene at last but 
empty handed, as is often the case when an emergency 
call goes out. 


150 


S. 0. s. 


151 


“Get something quickly,” ordered Raven, “to break 
this lock open with,)” then on second thought, “Joe!” 
addressing one of them, “Do you know how to use this 
hammer and break the lock without jarring Kid too 
much if he’s in there?” 

The man hesitated, stammered and made himself 
generally useless and Raven gave a sharp cry of joy 
as Lark towing Tinkham armed with suitable tools, at 
this moment burst into the little room. 

Another cry of joy rang out at the same instant. It 
was from Jack and was re-echoed by Alanna in a fer¬ 
vent “God be praised.” 

“We’ve got it,” exulted Jack, “I picked it with a 
file.” 

While the others had been talking he had rummaged 
in the cupboard near the fire-place and had discovered 
a thin, rusty old file. But rust and age had not spoiled 
its usefulness. Tinkham’s surly face relaxed into a 
grim smile as he strode over to the chest, the cover 
of which Jack and Alanna were attempting to raise. 
For a moment it stuck and seemingly resisted them. 

“Maybe it slipped back again,” moaned Jack, “but I 
sure heard it click.” 

“It’s all rusty in its workings, I reckon,’’ Tinkham 
said consolingly. “It just sticks a bit. We’ll get it. 
You picked the lock all right. I saw you. Who taught 
you the trick?” 

“A fellow that works for Grandy-dad. He used to 
be a crook but Grandy-dad gave him a chance and he’s 
straight as a string now. He taught me this trick just 
for fun.” 

“Stand back!” commanded Tinkham, “all but you 
ma’am,” nodding at Alanna. “There’s trouble here 
I’m afraid. Miss,” he whispered in her ear. 

“Call this beast away, someone,” he shouted hoarse¬ 
ly, and it took the combined efforts of the four children 
to get Cinny to move even a few inches. 


152 


JACK 


This interval, however, gave Tinkham an opportun¬ 
ity to stoop into the chest and raise with gentle care 
the little white-faced lad lying there so pitifully still. 

Alanna felt a pang of regret that she had ever called 
the children “ill-bred” when she saw the delicacy they 
showed in trying to get aside with Cinny in order to 
give Tinkham a free pathway out into the air with 
Kid, a limp burden in his arms. 

“Good old Cinny,” said Jack, winding his hands into 
Cinny’s brown fur. “You saved Kid’s life, you did, 
old scout.” 

“Talk about S. 0. S. signals, Jack,” spoke up Lark. 
“Cinny has us beaten to a frazzle on this wireless stuif. 
He came ’way over from the grove to answer Kid’s 
S. 0. S. from the chest.” 

The children laughed heartily at this pretty fancy 
of Lark’s and petted Cinny to an extent that would 
easily have turned any susceptible old bear’s head but 
steady Cinny refused to be honored. He was making 
frantic efforts to get out to his little master. 

Under the largest, oldest willow tree, Tinkham laid 
his precious freight down on the soft grass. Alanna 
immediately loosed the lad’s collar and tie, bathed the 
white up-turned face with water which she had brought 
with her in a silver pitcher from the dining-room. 

“Open this and pour some down his throat,” she com¬ 
manded Tinkham, handing him a small phial. 

The man intelligently obeyed and furthermore slip¬ 
ped his hand under Kid’s shirt to feel for the heart¬ 
beats that however feeble, meant life for this frail 
little creature. 

“Slow, very slow, Ma’am. Ain’t it possible to have 
a doctor?” he said at last, with his fingers now on 
Kid’s pulse. 

“I’ve been over to the house to call Doc Raleigh on 
the phone,” explained Lark eagerly from where he 
stood, a little to the side and yet near enough to help 


S. 0. s. 


153 


if called. The rest were still trying to keep Cinny 
occupied with them rather than to let him go near poor 
Kid just yet. 

“He went down to the Centre on a hurry case, twenty 
minutes ago. Say Tinkham, couldn’t you and I rush 
after him in the Flivver ? Daddy took the Sedan when 
he went this morning. Grandfather and Mr. Bob have 
the big car. They went over the road to Washington 
in it last night with the Waynes. But you know how 
to work the little machine, don’t you Tinkham?” 

“It was taken to the garage at the Centre this morn¬ 
ing,” growled Tinkham. “Those pesky autos make 
me sick. Always out of repair when one needs ’em. 
Give me a good horse any time. Sure and steady. 
Thatfs the goods.” 

“Horse!” Jack pricked up his ears. Then dropped 
his clutch on Cinny and scuttled suddenly across the 
lawn, calling back over his shoulder, “I’ll get the Doc¬ 
tor, fast as I can.” 

It seemed scarcely two minutes later that the sound 
of fast-flying hoofs came to them and a voice urging, 
coaxing, commanding by turns, rang out on the still 
air of noontide. Then around a curve of the drive¬ 
way swept Jim, glossy-coated, at his best today while 
flat on the horse’s back with his coppery head laid 
close to Jim’s arched neck lay Adorable, using every 
art taught him by Tim Fergus, the ex-jockey, to make 
Jim’s old feet skim the earth even as they had once 
scored gloriously in the old days on the race-track. 

The pulse beneath Tinkham’s rough fingers gave a 
leap, the heavy-lidded eyes opened dreamily, the blue 
lips moved and Alanna, stooping down to catch that 
first word, caught, a wee smile on those lips and the 
one syllable “Jim.” 

“Yes, mavourneen,” she murmured. “It’s your Jim. 
You’ll be better soon little Snow-bird.” 


154 


JACK 


Kid’s eyes opened wider. They searched until they 
found Alann&’s face. 

“Don’t try to talk, dearie, just drink this,” she whis¬ 
pered soothingly. 

He obeyed her and lay once more perfectly quiet. 
Tinkham seeing that all indications were favorable 
now, strode over to take charge of Cinny to the relief 
of Jacqueline, Lark and Raven. Tying the rope once 
more to the bear’s collar, the man was about to lead 
him away when Kid’s eyes opened once more. They 
roved until they found Cinny, then he tried to reach 
out his arms but they fell weakly back by his sides. 
Cinny lurched forward unexpectedly and soon was 
caressing Kid in his rough way and grunting all the 
while. 

Kid smiled happily and jerked out, “Lie-down-Cin.” 

The bear instantly stretched himself out in his 
clumsy fashion and Kid rolling over, feebly tried to 
pillow his head on the soft fur that had so often been 
his cushion in days gone by. It was a touching sight 
and thus the Doctor found them. 

His work with his patient was quick and effective. 
The jolly, rotund little physician kept up a steady flow 
of cheery banter as he and Tinkham carried Kid gently 
across the lawn to the big house. On a divan in the 
living-room they deposited the invalid and then Dr. 
Raleigh ordered every one out except Alanna. 

Tinkham took Cinny out near the stables to reward 
the faithful animal with food and drink. Lark, Raven 
and Jacqueline went further and in their gratitude 
endeavored to upset Cinny’s perfectly good digestive 
organs by a feast so bounteous of honey, sugared buns 
and sweet crackers that I’m sure it was only Cinny’s 
own good sense that saved him. For having had 
enough dainties, although more were forced upon him, 
he calmly stretched himself out in the sun and prepared 
for a nap. 


S. 0 . s. 


155 


At last Alanna called the children to their own be¬ 
lated lunch, delighting them with the good news: 

“Doctor says the little Snow-bird is safe, dearies. 
’Tis asleep he is now, poor pet, and the Doctor is with 
him watching the effect of the medicine. God be 
praised!” 

“But we must wait for Jack,” said Raven loyally, but 
with her customary whine. 

“I have an extra treat saved for that same good 
Jack when he comes,” smiled Alanna. 

“He's walking Jim back you know,” chimed in Lark. 
“After Jim races a little, he’s so old, he gets done up 
and then Jack lets him take it easy for a spell.” 

“That Jack is a caution,” said Alanna smiling. “He 
saw the Doctor’s machine outside a house and up to 
the door he marched as big as life, rang the bell and 
told the lady he wanted the doctor quick, ’twas a case 
of life and death was awaiting for him up at Jasmine 
Knoll.” 

“Here he is! Here he is!” cried out Jacqueline hap¬ 
pily from where she stood at the window. 

All rushed over in time to see Master Jack march¬ 
ing up the driveway, followed by Jim. The old horse 
seemed weary but not unhappy. His black head often 
sought the boy’s small but sturdy shoulder and rested 
there as though in utter love and confidence. 

Jim never would forget that this lively lad had been 
the first one in years to awaken him and make him live 
again the glorious days of his illustrious past. What 
though he was tired afterwards? Wasn’t it a “nice 
tired” as Jack would.have said, since it sent the glow 
of achievement and usefulness surging all over his 
worn out old body. 

“Hi, Jack!” called Lark. 

“Hi! How’s Kid?” grinned Jack. 

“Fine! Asleep! Hurry up, lunch is ready.” 


156 


JACK 


“Righto! I’m starved. Say, bring Jim some sugar 
somebody, will you?” 

Eager hands obeyed him and Jim soon felt the thrill 
of reward for work well done. 

It was just at dusk that the children were allowed 
to go in and see Kid before Mr. Treadwell, who had 
come home meanwhile, carried him upstairs. 

Alanna sat near Kid's side. “What do you think this 
blessed child has just said?” she demanded of the rest, 
wiping her eyes quite openly. 

“Don't know. Tell us,” begged Lark. 

“Yep. Do,” urged Jack. 

Kid surveying them all serenely answered for him¬ 
self quite simply. 

“I just told Alanna, as how I asked Madonna Mia to 
take care of me when I found I was shut up in that 
box and she did, didn't she?” he added nodding his 
head gravely. 

“Oh, Kid!” exclaimed Jacqueline eagerly. “You mean 
Our Lady, don't you ? Do you love her too ? Oh, I'm 
so glad. She is my dearest Friend, up in Heaven and 
God must love her best Himself 'cause she's His 
Mother.” 

Kid smiled at her wistfully. Oh, how he hoped he 
was this bright, sweet little girl’s own true brother 
and yet—he stretched out his hand warmly to Jack, 
dear, jolly, brave old Jack who with Cinny and Jim 
had saved his life. No. He wouldn’t want to win a 
family, no matter how nice, away from Jack. 

“Snow Bird,” asked Alanna softly, (she never was 
willing to call him by that “slang name,” Kid) “did 
good Pietro who taught you of Madonna Mia tell you 
aught, my lamb, of Her Blessed Son, our Saviour?” 

“Yes’m,” answered Kid quietly. “You mean the 
Holy Bambino now, don't you?” 

“Well, did you ever!” ejaculated pious Alanna. 


S. 0. s. 


157 


“ 'Twas a good true man that poor Italian Bear Man 
was, I’m sure. May God be good to him above. ,, 

Then seeing Jack's unusually serious face, Alanna 
addressed him gently: 

“Robin-bird, have you had any training that same 
way I wonder, or are you the only poor lamb here 
that doesn't know what we’re talking about?" 

“I know," laughed Jack, his face now assuming its 
drollest look and in his sudden embarrassment he 
dropped Kid’s hand and began to fidget uneasily. 

“You don't either. You're just shamming, Jack Gil¬ 
bert," contradicted Raven sharply. Raven's really 
tender heart, after accidents were over, generally hid 
itself once more under thorns and brambles. 

“Do too," answered Jack, making a droll grimace at 
her. 

“Tell us then if you do," she insisted. 

“Shan't," retorted Jack coolly, now proceeding to 
stand on his head. 

“I think he does know," said Lark loyally, and Jack 
came right side up and smiled. 

Unexpectedly, he began to sing and to the amazed 
listeners it seemed as though a baby angel had stolen 
out of Heaven and found its way to earth. Jack's voice 
was a thing of exquisite beauty and the song was this: 

“God rest ye, merry gentlemen, 

Let nothing you dismay; 

For Christ our Lord and Saviour 
Was born on Christmas Day." 

Alanna's eyes were full of tears. Never had she 
heard the old English Carol more feelingly rendered, 
than on that sweet May evening. 

“Now," announced Jack, smiling at Raven, “don’t I 
know what Kid means when he says about the Holy 
Bambino." 


158 


JACK 


"Who taught you, dear?” asked Alanna. 

"Oh, long ago at Christmas-time Grandy-dad taught 
me all the Christmas songs he used to sing at his home 
in England when he was a boy. He plays for me on an 
organ he’s got and I like to sing. That’s all,” Jack 
declared and went back to the attempt of standing on 
his head. 

"What name did Grandpa teach you to call Madonna 
Mia?” demanded Raven. 

"Oh, I have her picture in my bed-room and it’s in 
a big, old, red book in Grandy-dad’s library, too,” ex¬ 
plained Jack. "Her name is printed under it in swell 
blue and gold letters, in the book I mean,—Ye Blessed 
Mary, Mother of God—just like that it is.” 

"Good boy, Jackie. Don’t let them make you and 
Grandy-dad out to be heathens,” called a hearty voice 
from the doorway. There stood young Mr. Treadwell 
laughing at them all. Lark and Raven ran to him. 

"Hi, Dad!” cried out Lark. 

"Something for me in your pocket, Daddy?” begged 
Raven. 

"Candy for all,” he laughed handing her several small 
packages, "and something exciting for the Waynes.” 

Only Jacqueline advanced to receive the yellow en¬ 
velope he extended. 

"You, too, Jackie,” he called, "and Kid also, since 
it is all up in the air yet as to which of you is which, I 
suppose.” 

But the two lads shook their heads and let Jacque¬ 
line, the only "honest and true” Wayne (as Kid laugh¬ 
ingly declared), open the telegram which was addressed 
as Mr. Treadwell had said to: 

The Waynes, 

c/o Mr. Gilbert Treadwell, 

Jasmine Knoll, 

R-. 



S. 0 . s. 


159 


“Oh, goody-goody-see!” laughed happy Jacqueline, 
waving the yellow sheet on high. 

“Read it,” begged Kid. 

“Yes, yes,” from Lark and Raven. 

Only Jack was silent and uncomfortable. 

In her sweet, clear voice the little girl at last de¬ 
livered the written message. 

“Good news for both Kid and Jack. Coming to you 
tomorrow with all possible speed! 

Mother.” 

“But she doesn't say who is who,” said Raven in 
disappointed tones. 

Another interruption occurred at this moment. 
There was a peal from the front door bell, the sound 
of people entering the hall and as Mr. Treadwell turned 
his head to see who it might be, the children heard him 
call out cordially: 

“Back again, Father? Greetings! Mr. Bob, too! 
What luck?” 

“Grandy-dad!” yelled Jack joyfully and rushed out 
to meet him. 

Soon Sir Gilbert and jolly Mr. Bob joined the group 
in the living-room, eager to hear the exciting adven¬ 
tures of Kid, the bare details of which Jack had an¬ 
nounced to them immediately on top of his greetings. 
Then Mrs. Wayne's telegram was shown and a cloud 
fell on Sir Gilbert's fine old face. 

“This came from New York,” said the younger Mr. 
Treadwell, glancing once more at the yellow sheet. 

“Yes,” explained Sir Gilbert slowly, “after hearing 
from us all the data that the man known as old Car- 
son gave us about this boy, Kid, she, Mrs. Wayne, 
seemed suddenly to get a flash of suspicion about 
something. Decided quickly to take the midnight train 
for New York. Mr. Wayne and she caught it in good 


160 


JACK 


season and she must have run her clew down to earth. 
She seems to have made some important discovery. 
Well, we will all know tomorrow,” and Grandy-dad 
sighed and tightened the clasp of his arm around 
Jack’s sturdy shoulders. 

Something in his face made Jack reach up impulsive¬ 
ly and hug him. 

“I’ll stay your boy, don’t worry, Grandy-dad,” he 
whispered bravely. 

Young Mr. Treadwell to avert all sadness if possible, 
called out merrily: 

“Well, Bob, if you are ready suppose we make a 
chair for Kid.” 

Both men crossed their hands and Kid rode upstairs 
in state. Grandy-dad, Alanna and the children enter¬ 
ing into the fun and acting like lunatics as they fol¬ 
lowed the “king of the hour” cheering him and hurrah¬ 
ing merrily. 


CHAPTER XVII 


JACK’S PERIL 

All that night a wild storm raged. Rain pelted down 
as though the clouds never intended to hold another 
drop safely stored away in their reservoirs. The wind 
swept from the north a roaring, ugly gale. Shut¬ 
ters rattled ominously. The trees, grand and stately 
things by day, bent and groaned and cracked like 
cowards completely overcome by a bullying foe. It 
was in fact one of those unexpected, terrifically disas¬ 
trous storms that sometimes in mid-spring sweep the 
land with relentless force. 

Morning came shyly at first but by the time the 
children of Jasmine Knoll were up, she presented a 
rosy, smiling face quite as though the Sun and her¬ 
self wondered how the earth ever became so muddy, 
wet and untidy in the short time since Day had bidden 
farewell to it at sunset hour yesterday. 

There was delight in the hearts of Jack and Lark 
as they peered out the dining-room windows. (Alanna 
had refused to let the breakfast porch be used because 
of a broken light of glass.) 

“Hurrah, Jack!” exclaimed Lark excitedly, “see all 
that water rushing down the gutter at the side of the 
driveway. I’ve a flotilla of really decent boats. We’ll 
set them sailing as if they were shooting the rapids.” 

“Whiz! Look at the lawn!” shouted Jack. “Great 
big branches of all the trees! We can play we are 
pioneers chopping up logs for our cabins. And, oh-ee, 
Cinny can play, too. We’ll pretend he’s a real bear 
stealing in on our camp. Some fun today, ha! ha!” 

161 


162 


JACK 


And Jack putting his hands in his pockets and grinning 
gayly, shuffled off in a funny dance up the dining-room 
to his place at the table. 

“Let’s hurry up and eat,” advised Lark, “so’s to get 
out, fast as we can.” 

Now if Jacqueline and Raven had been as eager to 
fare forth on pleasure bent, I fear this morning suc¬ 
ceeding the storm might have been a dreary one for 
Kid, who of course was marooned in his own room, once 
more an invalid. 

As Jack and Lark disappeared after breakfast, each 
carrying part of a goodly fleet of boats, really so large 
and cleverly constructed as to look more than mere 
toys, Raven asked Jacqueline fretfully, “What on 
earth can we do? Up in Kid’s room, I mean. I want 
to play with him, you see, ’long as he can’t get out.” 

“Oh, goody!” agreed Jacqueline. “I know heaps of 
things that are jolly to do.” 

Kid bolstered up in bed, looked very white and wist¬ 
ful until a knock at the door and then a little scratch¬ 
ing sound sent a flood of happy color into his cheeks. 
The “rest of the crowd” hadn’t forgotten him then. 
Oh, wasn’t that fine, for it was hard for a fellow to lie 
abed again after having a taste of out-door life. 

“Come in,” he called joyously. The door was opened 
cautiously to admit first laughing Jacqueline who after 
a merry nod in Kid’s direction, moved aside to make 
way for Raven armed with two lively, squirming kit¬ 
tens. 

“There!” the latter remarked in a relieved tone as 
she dropped both furry little creatures down beside 
Kid. “We can’t stay, so Alanna says, but Rex and 
Crex can. Aren’t you glad?” 

“Guess I am,” answered Kid emphatically. “Come 
here, Rex, old chap. You know me, don’t yer?” 

Yes, Rex seemed to. He was the adventuresome kit- 


JACK’S PERIL 


163 


ten and immediately began a tour of inspection by 
climbing up on what appeared to be an interesting 
elevation of one portion of the bed-spread. 

“Ouch! Excuse me, Rexie, but that’s my knee, sir,” 
expostulated Kid giving a squirm as Rex dug his claws 
in diligently. Both little girls giggled. 

“He’s just proving that he knows you, like you said, 
Kid,” reminded Raven slyly. 

“Why can’t you both stay?” asked Kid wistfully 
after the laugh at his expense had subsided. 

“Dr. Raleigh must give us permission Alanna said, 
and he won’t be here until nine,” explained Jacqueline. 
“But see, we have brought you something else to 
amuse you. We can stay long enough to help you blow 
them up. Jack’s Grandy-dad gave them to us for 
you,” and Jacqueline held up a small flat box orna¬ 
mented on the outside with gayly colored pictures of 
children. 

“He’s my real Grandfather,” interrupted Raven re¬ 
lentlessly. “Everyone talks about him just as though 
he only belonged to Jack.” 

However in spite of her scowl at what she evidently 
considered an error of explanation on Jacqueline’s part, 
she helped the other little girl to spread Sir Gilbert’s 
gift out on the bed. 

Kid watched the two girls with sparkling eyes. 

“What are they, doll’s caps?” he questioned, as he 
saw scattered around him small, bright bits of gaily 
colored rubber. 

“No, you silly boy,” chided Raven smiling, as she 
tossed one up out of Crex’s reach. “They are balloons. 
Twelve of them. Here, try to blow one up. Then tie 
it with this string,” tossing him a bit of white cord. 
“Jacqueline and I will do the same. Watch us.” 

They were merry moments that followed. All three 
children blew into the little India rubber toys until 


164 


JACK 


their cheeks were almost as puffed up and as rosy as 
the biggest, gayest balloon itself. 

Rex and Crex added to the fun by trying to catch the 
balloons or to capture the trailing ends of the strings. 

When Alanna appeared in the doorway to order the 
little girls away, she found herself looking up upon 
a fairy-like scene. The dainty balloons seemed to be 
drifting like gorgeous, airy clouds all around Kid's bed. 

“See, Alanna, aren't they gay?" sang Jacqueline. 
“Which color do you like best?" 

“The one Raven-bird is tying to the brass knob 
now, of course, my dearie," smiled Alanna. 

“Oh," laughed Raven. “The green one! Certainly 
Alanna would like that best." 

“Why?" asked Kid curiously. 

“Why, indeed, but because it's the color of my own 
dear land, the Emerald Isle, God bless her," answered 
Alanna fervently. But almost immediately she said 
with an abrupt change of tone: 

“Come, come Missies! 'Tis flushed the poor boy 
looks. 'Tis too much excitement he's having. Come 
away until after the doctor arrives with his orders." 

Jacqueline and Raven went obediently enough but 
regretfully, and Kid lay back once more with Rex and 
Crex, both tucked into the curve of his arms while with 
his eyes he followed happily the floating bits of airy 
color surrounding him. Red, blue, orange, purple, 
green, yellow and silver combined to make his resting 
place “a thing of beauty." All seemed to be nodding 
at him merrily, helping him to forget the monotony 
of being a “shut-in." 

Meanwhile, Lark and Jack were cruelly (according 
to their way of thinking) interrupted in their game 
of “Shooting the Rapids" by the arrival of Lark's 
music teacher and the summons from the house calling 
Lark to his violin lesson. 


JACK’S PERIL 


165 


“Wish I could chuck the stupid old stuff,” grumbled 
Lark gloomily and not at all consistently, for he really 
loved music and was making rapid strides in his study 
of it. 

“Huh! I don’t mind!” cheered Jack good-naturedly. 
“I’ll come up to the house with you and listen, maybe. 
Will he let me?” 

“My teacher?” queried Lark. “Why sure. He won’t 
mind I guess. Come ahead anyhow.” 

But Jack deserted Lark as they were about to enter 
the music room, for he had spied the two little girls 
in huge aprons slipping noiselessly down the back stair¬ 
way and his quick ear had caught a whisper that 
sounded like “cook” and “candy.” 

“So long, Lark! See you later!” he said blithely, 
hurrying after the departing Raven and Jacqueline. 

At first Raven would “have none of him” when he 
presented himself an uninvited guest at the kitchen 
door, but Jacqueline who had loved “the adorable one” 
at first sight and never swerved in her allegiance, even 
in behalf of gentle Kid, pleaded for him so sweetly 
that she won the day and Jack was soon safely in¬ 
stalled at one end of the kitchen table armed with a 
dish of nuts and a silver nut-cracker. 

“I’d rather do ’em with a hammer, down on the floor, 
over near the stove,” he remonstrated. 

“You can’t,” remarked Raven grimly. “Cook’s not 
crazy about having us here anyway and we mustn’t get 
things too tossed up or we couldn’t come any more.” 

“Now Jack, don’t you dare to do like Tom did in the 
'Old Fashioned Girl’ or I’ll never coax Raven to let 
you play again,” exclaimed Jacqueline merrily, bobbing 
her curls at this chosen brother of her heart warningly. 

“Who’s Tom and wha’ did he do?” mumbled Jack in¬ 
distinctly. 

“Jacqueline, you see what he’s doing already,” 
moaned Raven distractedly. “Why, you bad, bad Jboy! 


166 


JACK 


Jacq, he's eaten every nut he's cracked," she announced 
but had to join in Jacqueline's laughter as she caught 
the droll look on Adorable's naughty face. 

“Pshaw! That was only the beginning of my job," 
explained Jack innocently, “I was only sampling 'em. 
I'm going to commence now, really and truly. Say, go 
ahead, Jacqueline, tell me who that Tom was and 
what did he do, huh?" 

“So you could do it, too?" demanded Raven, warily. 
“No, sir. If you want to find out about Tom, you’ll have 
to ready the story. Isn't that fair, Jacqueline? Now 
please don't be a goosie and tell him." 

“Oh my, ain't she mean though," mocked Jack in 
derisive imitation of some perfectly nice little girl’s 
lament. 

Raven and Jacqueline both thought it best to ignore 
him and bent all their energies now upon their candy 
mixture. 

“Wow!" cried Jack looking out the window a few 
moments later, “see it rain! Why it was pleasant as 
could be when Lark and I came in. Now it's coming 
down in buckets. Guess I'd better go and get those 
boats of ours or they'll be shipwrecked sure as shoot¬ 
ing. I’ll finish the nuts when I come back," he shouted 
over his shoulder as he disappeared. 

“Finish them! I guess he will if we let him," said 
Raven, viewing with contempt the pile of shells Jack 
had accumulated beside the dish but with no evidence 
of a nut-meat anywhere in sight. 

“Oh, aren't boys tormenting?" admitted even cheery 
Jacqueline this time, dismayed at Jack's mischief. 
“Perhaps he will be in earnest when he comes back 
though," she added. “It really is raining hard, Raven, 
isn't it? Just a nice day for candy-making, don't you 
think ?" 

“Yes," agreed Raven pulling anxiously at the sticky 
mixture which she had concocted, “and I think the 


JACK’S PERIL 


167 


candy will be nice even if it does look funny. It smells 
good, doesn’t it, Jacq?” 

'‘Scrumptious!” agreed her friend. “Can you make 
fudge, too? Mumpie taught me a dandy receipt.” 

“Oh, hurrah!” laughed Raven. “We’ll have heaps 
then. Two kinds. We’ll give Kid some and Lark but 
not one bit to Jack. Not a teeny, weeny bit, so there, 
Jacqueline Wayne and you needn’t coax for him 
either.” 

“But Raven, see! He did save some, look! He had 
them hidden down here on the window sill just to fool 
us. He was only teasing after all,” cried out Jacqueline 
triumphantly. “There’s a nice little pile. Now, isn’t 
Jack all right?” Her blue eyes were raised to Raven’s 
from where she knelt on the floor scooping the little 
treasure-trove she had found from the windowsill into 
the dish. 

“Well, did you ever?” said Raven in surprise, stoop¬ 
ing over to examine the hoard. Then she added hon¬ 
estly—“he’s a dreadful plague, but I can’t help liking 
him, just a little.” 

“I love him,” announced Jacqueline loyally. 

“Better than Kid?” persisted Raven. 

“I—I don’t know,” said the little girl slowly. “I 
love Kid—very, very much, but Jack—well—oh, I want 
Jack for a brother, more than anything in all the 
world,” and Jacqueline clasped her arms around the 
dish of nut-meats convulsively. 

“I know,” nodded Raven. “That’s like I love Lark, 
only I can’t show it somehow or other. But I like that 
Kid boy ever so well and he looks just as like you as 
—as Rex looks like Crex,” she wound up desperately. 

Both children laughed in unison over the comparison 
and then Jacqueline said softly: 

“I feel as though Kid really does belong to me and 
that I’m sure of him for a brother because we look 
alike. It’s because I’m so afraid we will find that Jack 


168 


JACK 


isn’t that I hate to lose him, I like him so much. Don’t 
you see what I mean ? You do, don’t you, Raven ?” she 
urged in her animated way. 

“I don’t know exactly,” replied Raven, “ ’cause of 
course they can’t both be your brother. But come on, 
let’s get this started, or we’ll never get to the fudge,” 
and in the absorbing interest of candy-making Jack 
was soon forgotten. Nor was his failure to return 
noticed by the two little girls for some time. 

Meanwhile, Jack in rubber coat and cap, looking like 
an Uneeda Biscuit Boy, and cheerily whistling, was now 
on his way down what was known as the River Road, 
armed with a stout umbrella, a man’s raincoat and a 
formidable pair of rubbers. Strange to say, careless, 
jolly Jack was occasionally absurdly thoughtful. For 
those few to whom he was thoroughly devoted, as for 
instance, Grandy-dad and Mrs. Wayne, he would go to 
unusual lengths sometimes. In this instance when he 
started out to recover the toy flotilla from the drive¬ 
way “rapids” he suddenly remembered that Sir Gilbert 
had gone off early that morning for a walk. His “con¬ 
stitutional” he called it, and Jack distinctly recollected 
that Grandy-dad had taken no provision with him 
against this unexpected downpour. 

“I’ll get his rain-togs and go and meet him,” thought 
Jack. “He takes cold so easy that I’d better hurry, 
too.” 

Five minutes later he was on his way but quite for¬ 
got to acquaint any one at Jasmine Knoll of his change 
of plans. With a gay whistle on his lips and his brown 
eyes characteristically merry, Master Jack strode un¬ 
suspectingly on to where peril lurked for him behind 
the brave gate of heroism. 

You may be sure it was not of peril nor of heroism 
that Jack was thinking when he first saw the “old 
bridge” in the distance. 


JACK’S PERIL 


169 


“Looks sort of crooked today,” he mused. “Wonder 
if they’ll ever get it torn down or if it’ll just fall to 
pieces itself.” 

“I’ll have to hustle, Grandy-dad will be soaked if he 
has walked up to the new bridge and across. Wish I 
could head him off.” These were the thoughts that 
were darting through his active brain. 

Just then he reached a point opposite the boarded- 
up entrance to the old bridge which had been con¬ 
demned some years before. The cost of constructing 
the new bridge half a mile up river had hindered the 
townships from tearing down the old one. It stood, 
swaying a bit under storms, boarded up at each 
entrance and marked “Dangerous” in glaring signs, a 
picturesque old ruin or landmark according to the fancy 
of whoever was describing it. 

Jack had on his trips past it with Lark, found it 
always enticing. He stopped for an instant that rainy 
morning and poked his head through one of the open¬ 
ings in the net-work of boards beneath the danger 
sign. 

“Wish I could try it sometime,” he thought longingly. 
Then mischief as usual popped into his head, side by 
side with love of adventure. 

“Wouldn’t it be fun to do it today ? Pooh! I’m light. 
I wouldn’t jar the old thing much. I could tell Lark 
about it and Kid when I got home. Make their eyes 
pop open, too. And I’d get a short cut on Grandy- 
dad,” he decided finally. “I’d get over to the other 
side and meet him ever so much quicker than I ever 
could if I kept on following him up to the new bridge 
and over.” 

“I’ll do it,” he determined joyously, recklessly, and 
in less time than it takes me to write it, Adorable had 
poked Sir Gilbert’s umbrella, raincoat and overshoes 
through one of the openings of the frame-work on to 
the floor of the old bridge and had climbed up across the 


170 


JACK 


topmost barricade and slid as lightly as possible down on 
the other side. Thrilling to the joy of the adventure as 
he proceeded, Jack quickened his step after a moment. 
The rain was pelting down remorselessly and the water 
below him was swirling angrily. The river was un¬ 
usually high owing to the severity of the storm which 
starting as it had up in the hills had whipped all the 
brooks and springs and rivulets in its pathway into 
surging action. Once as he looked down, Jack shiv¬ 
ered, the water was ugly today sure enough. It was 
muddy and it had a sizzling, snarling sound, he thought. 

But his heart was light and he tried to make his 
footsteps lighter still. Wasn't he half way over and 
wasn't it going to be a jolly thing to blow about when 
other chaps were telling yarns—oh! 

Jack stopped with a jerk and stared ahead through 
the driving rain. Why, the old bridge entrance was 
open at the other end. How could that have happened, 
he wondered. 

Then he observed as he pressed onward that the 
flooring of the old structure seemed more insecure at 
this point. Evidently, the wild storm had hit one end 
of the bridge harder than the other. It must have 
wrenched away the boards which protected the en¬ 
trance and had doubtless tossed the Danger sign into 
the watery depths below. Even the piles beneath this 
portion of the bridge seemed to rock ominously. 

Jack’s quick mind instantly sensed the danger of 
having that entrance to the bridge open. “Some one 
that doesn't know 'bout this bridge being the old one 
might turn in here," he thought. “I'll hurry and meet 
Grandy-dad and then one of us can go warn the men 
at the other bridge to come nail the boards up on this 
one again." 

He broke into a run and undoubtedly would have 
made the last lap of his race in safety if he had not 
heard in the distance the shrill honk of a motor horn. 


JACK’S PERIL 


171 


There were two roads that met to the right of that 
unprotected bridge entrance. One was the main road 
leading straight to the nearest city, the other, a short 
cut often used by motorists particularly if they were 
strangers in the vicinity and it swerved into the main 
road rather abruptly from around a sharp turn of a 
bristling, rocky ledge. 

Jack had a sudden decisive thrill of danger then. 
An automobile was certainly going full speed through 
the driving rain down that unlucky “short cut.” If 
the occupants were not familiar with the section, they 
might in a desperate run for shelter turn in at the old 
bridge thinking it was the correct method of crossing 
the river. Ah! 

A car of about six passenger capacity had rounded 
the turn. It headed straight for the old bridge. There 
were several passengers for Jack could hear their 
voices and laughter from afar. He made a desperate 
effort to warn them. He dropped the umbrella and 
rubbers but gripping Grandy-dad’s raincoat waved it 
frantically over his head and ran forward swiftly, 
shouting: 

“Danger! Danger! Stop!” at the top of his lusty 
lungs. 

Some one saw him, heard him, and crashed on the 
brakes just in time. Yes, just in time for the motor¬ 
ists themselves—but Jack— 

Alas! One rotten board gave way beneath those 
valiant little feet flying forward so bravely. Jack trip¬ 
ped, strove to get his balance, failed and fell headlong 
with a jar too abrupt for the old flooring to with¬ 
stand. 

With a snarl the rushing water caught in its swirling 
current and bore relentlessly away that vigorous young 
body, that gay young face, and that gallant head 
crowned with its mass of ruddy curls. 



jack, gripping Oiandy-dad's raincoat waved it frantically over his head, shouting: 
“Danger! Danger! Stop!” 































































































CHAPTER XVIII 


WHO IS WHO? 

Nearly two weeks after that disastrous day when the 
old bridge had hurled Jack into the foaming river, Sir 
Gilbert Treadwell awoke one afternoon puzzled by his 
surroundings and by the general feeling of weakness 
which oppressed him. He attempted to rise from what 
seemed to him like a mountainous range of pillows, felt 
his head whirl madly, and much against his will lay 
back again, calling testily: 

“Come here, somebody! Why am I in bed? Tut, 
tut, where is that bell ? ,? and he reached out one slim 
white hand in search of the electric button. 

“Yes, Sir Gilbert, 1 ” someone answered gently. A 
white-robed nurse moved towards him and placed her 
capable fingers on his pulse. She smiled encouragingly 
even while she studied attentively the face of her wrist- 
watch. 

With a swift burst of annoyance, Sir Gilbert jerked 
his hand away and demanded in an exasperated tone: 
“What does all this tomfoolery mean? Where is Gil¬ 
bert? Call him to me at once!—Pardon me, Madam, 
I mean no rudeness but—” his voice trailed off weakly 
and his expression changed abruptly from irritation to 
the wistfulness of absolute weakness. 

“Drink this please, you will soon feel better. You 
have been very ill,” the smooth voice explained, and 
before he could offer further objection a glass tube was 
placed at his lips. ? 

Perhaps it was as well that Sir Gilbert's nurse was 
relieved at that moment. Her patient was in no mood 
173 


174 


JACK 


to make new acquaintances but he had the grace to 
smile at an old friend who came softly to his bedside. 

“How-do-you-do, Sir Gilbert ?” It was Mrs. Wayne 
who spoke and weak as he was he reached out both 
hands to her. Her bright, serene face flushed into 
radiant joy. “I’m glad you have a welcome for me,” 
she said, nodding gayly. 

“Certainly, my dear lady,” he said, recovering his 
usual dignity, “but I fear I spoke harshly to—” his eyes 
followed apologetically the back of the departing nurse. 

“Don’t try to talk just yet,” Mrs. Wayne urged him 
softly. “It is quite all right about Miss Evans, she 
understands. We nurses do not expect our patients 
to be civil under such trying circumstances.” 

“Nurses!” he murmured. “Are you both nursing 
me?” He scanned Mrs. Wayne’s crisp white linen suit 
approvingly but with a sort of wonderment. 

“Where’s the boy that was sick ? Kid ? What is 
the matter with me ? Why should I be nursed ?” 

He asked the questions rapidly, rubbing one hand 
over his eyes meanwhile. 

“Kid’s better. I’m nursing you now. Miss Evans 
relieves me. You caught cold by swimming out into 
the river one day to save a little boy’s life. Do you 
remember?” Mrs. Wayne spoke to him quite simply, 
certain that to clear his mind of its clouds would be 
the best possible medicine. 

Instantly memory swept back. Apprehension shot 
up into his fine old eyes.—“Jack ?” his blue lips framed 
the question but no sound proceeded from them. 

“Here, Grandy-dad! Right here. Oh, y’know me, 
doncher? Doncher, please?” besought a faltering 
young voice from somewhere amid the folds of Mrs. 
Wayne’s skirt. 

“Oh, hush, darling,” Mrs. Wayne chided. “You 
shouldn’t have come yet, boy dear.” 


WHO IS WHO? 


175 


But Grandy-dad's face cleared itself of pain, be¬ 
wilderment and weakness as though by magic. He 
stretched out yearning arms. 

‘‘My boy,” was all he said but it was enough to bring 
a little form into his embrace, and to press a pale young 
face close to his own where freckles seemed all washed 
away in a rain of boyish tears. 

“You saved my life, Grandy-dad. Oh, you were so 
brave and I've been afraid you'd die. Oh, Grandy-dad, 
I love you. Love you heaps and heaps and heaps!” 

From the fervor of Adorable's bear-like caresses, 
Mrs. Wayne gently but firmly rescued her patient 
rather against his will, I must confess. 

Had Sir Gilbert chosen at that moment between a 
natural death and one brought on by the undue excite¬ 
ment of Adorable's embrace, I know his preference 
would have been the latter. 

But Mrs. Wayne in her own calm way was unswerv¬ 
ingly firm and Jack with one last, lingering hug moved 
slowly out of Sir Gilbert's vision, saying earnestly: 

“Tomorrow I can stay. Can't I Mother, please?” 

“Yes, darling! You wouldn't want to harm Grandy- 
dad though by talking too much today? Would you?” 

“Oh, no-no. Bye—I'm gone,” and the door was 
closed behind him, gently, (for Master Jack.) 

Then young Mr. Treadwell came for a moment, his 
face so like Lark's seeming a veritable sunbeam in the 
sick-room. 

“Father, you certainly are a winner,” he said in his 
hearty but well-modulated voice. “I knew from the 
first that pneumonia would never triumph over you but 
here's congratulations, old chap, that it didn't.” 

The lightness of his manner hid a depth of comradely 
love and interest which his father understood perfectly. 

“Pneumonia, eh-Gil? So that was what ailed me, 
was it ?” his keen old eyes twinkled. “Better write my 


176 


JACK 


biography when you get time, Gil. You all seem to 
know so much more about me than I do myself.” 

He looked up at Mrs. Wayne at the same moment 
and the warmth of his smile included her also. He 
wrung his son’s hand with as much strength as he 
could muster and said: “I don’t mind being ill, my 
boy, with this sweet little lady in attendance. How 
can we ever thank her enough, lad ?” He lay still for a 
second and then added with a little sigh: 

'‘She makes me think of your Mother, Gil, that is 
why I have liked her from the first. I could almost 
let her have Jack—she loves him so.” 

The last sentence seemed to be wrung from him and 
young Mr. Treadwell looked up at Mrs. Wayne from 
where he knelt at the bedside and urged her pleadingly 
—“Tell him. It would not harm him I know. It would 
mean life, Agnes.” 

Sick as he was and bewildered, Sir Gilbert’s senses 
were keen enough to catch the name his son called 
Mrs. Wayne. 

“Agnes ?” he queried sharply—“Gil, my boy, you are 
breaking the laws of good-breeding. Do you realize 
that you have addressed Mrs. Wayne incorrectly?” 

“No, Father,” laughed his son, undismayed by Mrs. 
Wayne’s attempt to check his announcement, “I claim 
that good news never kills. The rest all want you to 
wait for the glad tidings until you are stronger. I 
know that you are out of danger now. You passed the 
crisis yesterday evening. Listen, Dad, and then I’ll go. 
You will never lose Jack—he is really your Grandson, 
you see, and why? Because, oh Dad, be ready now! 
You have a daughter as well as a son. Mrs. Wayne is 
my sister, the little girl whom you thought died in Eng¬ 
land years and years ago.” 

“Oh hush, Gilbert, please,” begged Mrs. Wayne and 
then bent hastily over her invalid who had closed his 
eyes and shivered suddenly from head to foot. 


WHO IS WHO? 


177 


“No-no-I am-all right. Don't fret, children,” his lord- 
ship whispered. Then with an effort he wrenched his 
eyes open once more. “Is it true?” he demanded, gaz¬ 
ing straight into Mrs. Wayne's tender eyes. 

“Yes,” she answered, “Yes—Father.” 

“Thank God,” Sir Gilbert said, his whole soul in the 
words. “I never knew how good God was before,” he 
added with a certain shy reverence. “I never thought 
enough about Him and yet He found me out and blessed 
me. It makes a man ashamed.” 

“Go now,” whispered Mrs. Wayne to her brother, 
“and send for Dr. Raleigh. We must watch him close¬ 
ly” 

And Gilbert Treadwell obeyed her this time but with 
no dread in his heart. He felt certain of the effect 
this strange, glad news would have upon his Father. 

Knowing that all little folks love best to hear things 
told in their own language, I vote that we listen to the 
explanation of all the astounding news contained thus 
far in this chapter, as Raven told it that evening to 
the rest. 

They were all gathered on the wide front porch, 
Jacqueline with Rex and Crex in her lap, Kid sitting 
near her on a low hassock, Lark busy with a broken 
fishing-rod, and Jack (unusually quiet for him) astride 
the railing, with his curly head resting back against 
one of the massive, old pillars. 

“Daddy and Aunt Agnes said I might tell you all,” 
explained Raven proudly, “ 'cause I happened to be 
there when Daddy got the last letter that settled every¬ 
thing. It came yesterday just before Grandfather 
passed the crisis. There was no one else for Daddy to 
tell, you see. Aunt Agnes, Mrs. Wayne, was with 
Grandfather and Uncle Hilary Wayne (I didn't know 
he was Uncle then) and Mr. Bob were still busy work¬ 
ing out all the proofs about Kid and Jack with the 
lawyers in the library. Daddy stood in the hall and 


178 


JACK 


read the letter through. Then he saw me and catch¬ 
ing me up and hugging me ever so tight, he said, 
‘Raven-bird, such news, dearie, as I've had. It took 
ages to get it sifted down to honest-to-goodness truth 
but it has been done at last. Mrs. Wayne is my sister, 
darling, and all you kiddies are first cousins. Aren't 
you glad, sweetheart?' and my but I was!" Raven 
nodded emphatically. 

“Do hurry and tell us all about it please, Raven," 
begged Jacqueline feverishly, forgetting the kittens 
now entirely. 

“I am telling you," reminded Raven severely. 

“She means the story of Aunt Agnes being lost and 
everything. Do hurry up like a good chap, Raven," 
urged Lark. 

“Please!" joined in Kid, his blue eyes starry in their 
happiness. 

“I'm glad Grandy-dad is truly my Grandfather," mut¬ 
tered Jack. “I wanted to be his and mother's too, 
and I didn't see how I could do it without cutting myself 
in two." 

“But you didn’t have to, Jack! Oh—ee—ee! I'm 
so happy," laughed gay Jacqueline, rising to hug both 
Jack and Kid and then extending the courtesy to Lark 
and Raven, for among all the surprising developments 
of this strange case, it has been proved beyond ques¬ 
tion that both Kid and Jack were John Waynes. Kid 
was Jacqueline's twin brother whose supposed death 
as a baby, the Waynes had mourned. Jack was a 
younger brother named for the brother whom all 
thought dead. I think if you follow Raven's story all 
these puzzles will fit in together to make the whole 
complete. 

“Well, it was this way," narrated Raven dramati¬ 
cally, standing up and delivering her sensational story 
with gestures. “Grandfather had just two children, 
a boy and a girl, like Lark and myself, you see. Their 


WHO IS WHO? 


179 


mother died just like ours did, when Aunt Agnes was 
a very tiny baby. She wasn't strong, Aunt Agnes I 
mean, and Grandfather sent her with a very faithful 
nurse to the seashore hoping she'd get better. It was 
in the summer time and he and our Daddy, who was 
his little son, Gilbert, stayed in London until Grand¬ 
father's work there was done. Politics, you know." 

Lark and Jack exchanged comic glances at Raven's 
explanations. 

“Well, what do you suppose? The hotel that the 
nurse and little baby, Aunt Agnes, were stopping at 
was burnt to the ground one night and from the wing 
their rooms were in, not one person escaped. At least," 
Raven supplemented impressively, “that's what every¬ 
one thought. But, lucky for us, that baby was saved 
or we wouldn't have a darling Aunt Agnes (that we 
love most to death) or you Waynes," nodding at her 
young cousins, “wouldn't have a Mother." 

“Ha-Ha-Ha!" laughed Lark and Jack. 

“Tell us something we don't know, Raven," begged 
her brother. “You haven't half begun the interesting 
part yet. Hurry up, please." 

“One of the firemen or a man who was helping them, 
caught a little baby that was thrown out one of the 
windows and in the darkness he just turned and handed 
it on to some one else. There was a gypsy encampment 
near the hotel and one of the gypsy men that was 
watching the fire with the other folks, grabbed that 
baby and ran off with it, thinking some day its parents 
might advertise for it. But when he got home to the 
gypsy camp his wife fell in love with the baby and want¬ 
ed to keep it for her own. Her baby, a little boy, had 
died only a day or two before. Well, the gypsy man 
said yes to her and she kept Aunt Agnes for her little 
girl until she was ten years old. Then a party of 
society people came to visit the gypsies one day and 
among them was a rich American lady. She took a 


180 


JACK 


great fancy to Aunt Agnes and wanted to adopt her. 
For a whole lot of money the gypsy man consented 
but without asking his wife who loved the little girl 
so much. The American lady took Aunt Agnes home 
with her and for years and years the gypsy mother 
never saw her again. Then at last she came with some 
of the gypsies to this country and found Aunt Agnes 
after a long, long time. Aunt Agnes had received a 
beautiful education but she liked nursing better than 
anything else. She had gone right in among the poor 
people, too, and had done lots of good. That's how the 
gypsy mother heard about her from some poor people 
who loved her. She was married and had two lovely 
little babies of her own, these people told the old gypsy. 
Of course, those babies were you and Kid, Jacqueline,” 
inserted Raven by way of parenthesis. 

“Yes—Yes!” 

“Go on!” 

“Hurry-up!” begged Raven's audience. 

“Aunt Agnes was lovely to her foster-mother, the 
gypsy, kept her at her house and gave her everything 
to make her happy, but one day, what do you sup¬ 
pose?” 

“Don't know.” 

“Tell us.” 

“Oh, do hurry.” 

“Yes, do,” from the children. 

“The gypsy went back to her people and took the 
baby-boy with her, that was you, Kid! Just stole you 
right out of your crib. You see, her mind was weak 
and she had taken a notion that you were her baby 
boy that had died so long before. When Aunt Agnes 
and Uncle Hilary found the gypsies (and it took them 
a very long time, many months searching and search¬ 
ing with detectives and everything) they told them 
their baby was dead. You can just guess how they 
felt. The poor old gypsy who stole Kid cried and 


WHO IS WHO? 


181 


showed Aunt Agnes and Uncle Hilary a little grave. 
They really believed her and their hearts were just 
broken. They never knew until all this mystery came 
up about Kid and Jack that their little boy wasn’t dead 
at all, but had been lost by the old gypsy on her way 
back to camp. She was half crazy you see, and lost 
the baby by the roadside. It was that horrid Jed 
Carson that found Kid and took him to his brother’s 
house. That was one nice thing he did anyway but 
the Carsons never looked up the baby’s people because 
they were just plain shiftless, every one thinks. There 
doesn’t seem to have been any other reason for it.” 

“How did Aunt Agnes find out about Kid?” asked 
Lark. “We never did hear the whole story because 
the night Aunt Agnes and Uncle Hilary came back 
with the news, Grandfather and Jack were both ill after 
the accident to Jack on the old bridge.” 

“When she heard old Carson’s story about Jed find¬ 
ing Kid on the roadside and the date, a suspicion popped 
into her mind that Kid might be her own little son 
after all. Jed Carson was in New York his brother 
said, so she and Uncle Hilary went immediately to 
see him and question him. Little by little everything 
came out. Not that day but since. One of the gypsies 
was found and he told the truth even about Jack who, 
you see, was stolen, too. Jack was Aunt Agnes’ baby 
who was born after Kid was lost, or supposed to be 
dead, and he was named John Wayne after his brother. 
When he was two years old he was stolen too. Aunt 
Agnes was ill at the time so the stealing was easy. 
Aunt Agnes and Uncle Hilary have been searching for 
him all these years and came on a clew a few months 
ago in Washington, that sent them to see Grandfather 
who had adopted a little boy from an orphan asylum 
when Lark and I were about three years old. We didn’t 
seem to take much to Grandfather. We were spoiled, 
I guess.” 


182 


JACK 


“I guess yes,” supplemented Lark. “And Grand¬ 
father was lonesome,” continued Raven and he was 
visiting asylums with other men one day and Jack was 
so cunning and made so much of Grandfather that 
he fell in love with him and adopted him. The people 
at the asylum couldn’t tell him anything about Jack’s 
parents. A ragged man had left him there one night 
who claimed to be his father and then disappeared. 
The gypsy man owned up that he stole Jack for the 
old gypsy’s sake but she died soon after and so he had 
taken Jack to the asylum thinking he’d get good care. 
He said he was afraid to return the baby to the Waynes, 
for fear he’d be arrested and put in jail. That’s all, 
except the long wait Daddy had getting the final proof 
about Aunt Agnes being his sister. The gypsy man 
confessed, you see, that Aunt Agnes was rescued from 
a fire in a small town in England. It all came out 
though. Those thing do,” ended Raven airily. 

“When you know just how to go about it.” 

“Wise acres!” chuckled Jack. 

“But isn’t it beautiful,” exclaimed Jacqueline earn¬ 
estly. “The way it ended? And to think we are all 
cousins and that Kid and Jack are both my brothers.” 

“Do you remember the day we were making candy 
and you said you wanted them both?” laughed Raven, 
“and I said I didn’t see how you could get two brothers.” 

“Yes,” nodded Jacqueline eagerly. 

“And I never got any of that candy, did I?” put in 
Jack suddenly. 

He had been strangely quiet since the day of his acci¬ 
dent on the bridge so all greeted his revival of spirits 
happily. 

“We’ll make some more,” suggested Raven amiably. 

“When Grandy-dad’s better,” suggested Jack, relaps¬ 
ing into seriousness again. 

“Oh, he will get well fast now, I know,” cheered 
sunny Jacqueline. 


WHO IS WHO? 


183 


Kid spoke at last. “My!—It’s all like—like story 
books, isn’t it? Somehow I’m glad Mother was lost, 
too. She’ll be as happy finding out about Sir Gilbert 
as I was finding out about her and my father and 
Jacqueline and Jack and Uncle Gilbert and Lark and 
you, Raven.” 

“You mustn’t call him Sir Gilbert. He’s your Grand¬ 
father, too, same as he’s ours,” reminded Raven. 

“I’ll call him Grandy-dad, if he’ll let me,” answered 
Kid shyly. 

He had some difficulty in overcoming a feeling of 
awesome respect for the dignified old nobleman but 
his love for him had been a kind of hero-worship, since 
the day that the automobilists whose lives Jack had 
saved, had brought home to Jasmine Knoll, Sir Gilbert 
and his boy and had told the story of Sir Gilbert’s gal¬ 
lant plunge into the river to save little Jack. 

“That old gentleman is the most superb swimmer I 
ever saw,” one of the automobilists had declared. 

“He must have been below us on the shore and I 
guess he saw the child on the bridge before we did. 
Anyway he struck the water before any of us could 
get there and such a powerful stroke as he had. Swift 
and sure and even as clock-work!” 

“Yes,” Mr. Bob had answered, the duty of hospi¬ 
tality having fallen on his shoulders, young Mr. Tread¬ 
well’s whole attention being centered on Sir Gilbert. 
“I have heard he was the finest swimmer on the Oxford 
team in his day.” 

He’s one grand old man,” agreed the motorist, “but 
I’m afraid the struggle was too much for his heart.” 

“We hope not,” Mr. Bob had answered. 

Sad weeks had followed in which “Grandy-dad” lay 
close to the Great Beyond and all his friends had 
prayed with all their hearts for his precious life. 

But danger, suspense and grief were over now and 
when Mr. Bob came out on to the porch among the 


184 


JACK 


young folks, he set the seal on what had been a 
perfect day (because of Sir Gilbert's recovery and Mrs. 
Wayne's authenticated identity) by saying: 

'‘Sir Gilbert bids me give you greetings, youngster. 
In a few weeks he hopes to be perfectly well again. 
He plans to have a family reunion as soon as possible 
at his home in Washington, and urges me to say that 
the big event of the day will be—the opening of the 
Secret Slide." 

“Hurrah! Hurrah!" rang out the children's voices, 
just loud enough to reach “Grandy-dad's" ears in the 
sick room far above. 

He opened his eyes and smiled at Mrs. Wayne. 
Pressed the hand he was holding so fast in his tender 
clasp and soon slipped off into the long, deep restful 
slumber that meant new life for him. 


CHAPTER XIX 


AT GRANDY-DAD’S 

“Here it is, Aunt Agnes!” exclaimed Lark excitedly. 

“Yes,” confirmed Kid with a shudder. “This is the 
place. I remember it by the pile of stones. I climbed 
up on those to get clear of Jed.” 

“And that’s the tree you fell from,” joined in Raven. 
“Right ker-plunk into our car and on to my foot.” 

General laughter at the rueful grimace which Raven 
made, gave the little party in the big automobile 
drawn up by the wayside, the outward appearance of a 
picnic group. No mere passerby would have guessed 
that the reason for this halt was to show the sweet¬ 
looking lady who sat in the big car surrounded by 
happy-faced children, a spot which had been two 
months before, the scene of a pitiful accident. 

Mrs. Wayne drew her pale, slender elder son more 
closely into the shelter of her embrace as she looked 
up at one of the over hanging trees which plainly 
showed traces of a missing branch. 

“Oh, my darling, how much I have to be grateful 
for. That could have been so cruel a fall! You might 
have been crushed to death beneath the automobile,” 
she ejaculated. 

“But Tom was driving,” declared Lark in eager 
praise, indicating the now crimson-faced chauffeur. 
“He can stop a car quicker than most people and keeps 
a cool head on his shoulders.” 

“Thank you, Master Gil,” acknowledged Tom with 
a respectful glance at Mrs. Wayne, “it’s not to me the 
credit is due. Seems to me ’twas Providence that 
saved the little chap for some good end. It’s a mean 
185 


186 


JACK 


bit of road here and the car was coming along at a 
pretty fair pace. The boy might easily have been 
killed. If he had dropped half a second sooner, he'd have 
been under the wheels instead of inside the car. 

“Hurrah, for you, Kid!" laughed Jack giving his 
brother a friendly pat on the head. Jack was standing 
up surveying the scene with bright, interesting eyes. 
“Yes," he observed after a moment, “it was right from 
that rock there," pointing up the road, “that Mr. Bob 
and I started off on the cycle after bidding Kid good¬ 
bye. He was to come along on Jim as soon as he 
could. Remember Kid?" he asked. 

“Yes, I do," assented Kid. “After that Jed came 
and I tried to get away and next thing I knew I was 
in this car." 

Jacqueline, until now a silent member of the merry 
party, suddenly bent forward from her place on one 
of the side seats of the big car and caught her twin 
brother’s hands in her own and squeezing them said: 

“Oh, Kid—I’m so, so glad you did fall inside this car. 
Aren’t you ?’’ 

Everyone laughed again quite gaily, and when the 
mirth had subsided Mrs. Wayne spoke gently: 

“Tom is right, dearies. A Higher Power than any 
earthly one held Kid and all of us encompassed se¬ 
curely. God saved us for each other and made all the 
tangles in the skein of our lives straight. We can 
only thank Him by living bravely and worthily." She 
stooped to press her face closer to Kid’s pale one and 
then looked up to smile merrily into Jack’s brown eyes. 
Her two long lost sons were constantly demanding 
equal shares of her unfailing attention. 

“Madonna Mia and Her Holy Bambino just seemed 
to bless me every minute after my old Lady of the 
flowers, Mr. Bob’s Mother, took me to church with 
her and sort of introduced me to Them," explained Kid 
with shy but simple faith. 


AT GRAND Y-D AD’S 


187 


“I thought it was Pietro who told you about Our 
Lord and His Blessed Mother?” remonstrated Raven. 

“Pietro said Their names,” answered Kid patiently, 
“in his prayers and I used to hear him but I never 
asked him much about Them, I never felt much in¬ 
terested until the day that old lady took me to church 
and said as how I was Madonna Mia’s knight and all 
that pretty talk. From that day on everything nice 
happened. I found him first. Then Mr. Bob and Jack 
gave me a party in the woods up beyond here, and next 
I fell right down into this swell car and went to Jas¬ 
mine Knoll to live and then came all of you and best 
of all—Mother,” and Kid wound up with a worshipping 
look into Mrs. Wayne’s face that gave expression to all 
the heart-hunger the early part of his childhood had 
known. 

“Oh, let’s hurry, Tom” insisted Lark abruptly. “Drive 
on. We want to see the place where Mr. Bob and Jack 
and Kid had their spread in the woods.” 

“Yes,” chimed in Jacqueline, “the place Jim ran back 
to when Jed Carson frightened Kid and him.” 

“Jim will miss us while we are away, I reckon,” re¬ 
marked Kid a bit sadly. 

“Shucks!” laughed Lark. “So will Cinny. But we 
won’t stay in Washington more than a week. It’s too 
hot. Grandfather wants us to have the fun of the 
Secret Slide before he shuts up the house for the sum¬ 
mer. He and Jack and Mr. Bob are coming back with 
us to Jasmine Knoll.” 

The automobile was moving onward swiftly now and 
there was plenty of time for chatter before the second 
spot of interest on this journey was reached. All the 
children, as perhaps you have guessed were traveling 
by motor from Jasmine Knoll to Grandy-dad’s under 
the care of Mrs. Wayne. 

The men folks had gone on ahead earlier that morn¬ 
ing. It had been voted at the beginning of the jour- 


188 


JACK 


ney to postpone lunch until the party had reached the 
spot, made famous by that first picnic of Kid’s with 
Mr. Bob and Jack. 

There had been so many delays along the road, 
however, pointing out this place and that as connected 
with either Kid or Jack or Jim, that when our party 
reached the small enclosure where the newspaper table¬ 
cloth had been spread by Mr. Bob one evening nearly 
two months before, they found they had very little 
time for picknicking if they were to reach their desti¬ 
nation at the hour appointed. 

Everyone however, stepped out of the car and viewed 
the ground. Kid designated the tree near which Jim 
had stood to eat his measure of oats. Jack showed 
the scorched bit of earth which bore evidence to their 
camp fire. Kid explained how disappointed he had 
felt when Jack climbed up on his horse and rode away 
at a gallop. Jack chuckled and gave his brother a mis¬ 
chievous glance. 

“Huh! Kid, you don’t ’predate me. I was swapping 
rides with you! Mr. Bob’s motorcycle for Jim! That 
was fair.” 

“Some day I want to go and see Mr. Bob’s mother,” 
said Kid earnestly, after the laugh at Jack’s speech 
had died away. “She doesn’t live very far from here 
and she was so good to me,” he added softly. 

“Perhaps you will have that pleasure sooner than 
you think, little son,” Mrs. Wayne suggested cheerily. 
“Come now. Gather round me, hungry little people all 
and nibble at these sandwiches while we have a few 
moments to spare.” 

“We’ll be home within half an hour,” announced 
Jack. “So don’t eat all you want now. Grandy-dad’s 
sure to have ice cream or something nice ready for us 
there.” 

As he spoke Jack wore the air of generous host most 
becomingly. He had enjoyed a splendid time at Jas- 


AT GRAND Y-D AD’S 


189 


mine Knoll. Now it was going to be fun to show Lark 
and Raven a good time at the house which he called 
home. Also it was going to be jolly to have his own 
brother and sister see all his treasures, whether in the 
battered old school-room on the third floor or in the 
garden where his pet rabbits were quartered or in the 
stable where Peanuts his riding horse awaited his re¬ 
turn. 

“Say, Lark,” Jack suddenly demanded, looking up 
from the plump sandwich he was consuming. “Why 
didn’t you and Raven ever come to see Grandy-dad and 
me? He used to tell me about you. He called you 
young Gil, but we never saw each other until he sent 
me with Mr. Bob to visit you that night we all met 
Kid.” 

Lark answered rather regretfully, but with the can¬ 
dor which invariably marked his speech. “Grandfather 
always had the poor luck of seeing Raven and myself 
when we were in a tantrum, I guess. He took offense 
at us when we were very small because we seemed to 
be afraid of him. After he adopted you, he sort of 
dropped us altogether. He came to see Daddy once 
in awhile but never brought you along and never asked 
Daddy to bring us to visit you. Then came the war. 
Daddy was in overseas service nearly four years and 
we were up in Canada with Alanna. There hasn’t been 
much time since to get acquainted until now. My! 
But I’m glad Grandfather is keener for Raven and me 
than he used to be. Why I thought he was a regular 
old ogre, in spite of all Daddy tried to tell me to the 
contrary.” 

“So did I,” agreed Raven. She swallowed a small 
portion of cake very slowly and at last admitted with 
shy but determined honesty: 

“I don’t really think Grandfather ever stopped car¬ 
ing for Lark. I guess I was the one who did the 


190 


JACK 


horrid things that made him say we weren't like any 
other man's grandchildren he had ever seen. I'm real 
mean sometimes. I know I am. I'm sure I hurt Grand¬ 
father awfully once by telling him, one Grandfather 
was enough for me. I mean Grandfather Fox, he is 
dead now, he was my Mamma's father." 

“You see," she continued, “Grandfather Fox was 
jolly and played with us a lot. Grandfather Treadwell 
was-well-quiet and strict-looking. I used to call him 
the bogey-man." 

“But now it is all different, isn't it?" said Mrs. Wayne 
in her most delightful way—“You ail understand 
Grandy-dad as Jack does and know how big a heart he 
hides under his reserved and dignified manner. I am 
positive he always loved you dearly, Raven, but couldn't 
show it unless you drew him out by your own display 
of childish affection." 

“Yes," nodded Raven. “He says I am ever so much 
like himself and that's perhaps why we didn't get on 
better. We didn't have patience with ourselves. You 
know what I mean, don't you, Aunt Agnes even though 
I can't say it?" 

“Yes, dearie. I understand perfectly." 

“But he loved you, Jacqueline, just as soon as he met 
you," confided Raven, smiling at her cousin. “He told 
me so. He said his heart went right out to you like 
it did to Jack." 

“I'm glad," Jacqueline answered gently, “ 'cause I 
loved him too, and knew he was good even when we 
were afraid Jack was down in the Secret Slide." 

“Oh, the Secret Slide!" exclaimed Kid. “We’ll soon 
know what it is, won't we ?" 

“Yes, if we hurry. Come on, do," urged Jack, gath¬ 
ering up the lunch basket and rushing over to the wait¬ 
ing automobile where Tom in his seat at the wheel was 
munching his last sandwich and reading the paper. 


AT GRAND Y-D AD’S 


191 


“All aboard ?” called out good-natured Tom, five min¬ 
utes later. 

“All aboard,” agreed a chorus of joyful young voices. 

Soon after they left the Virginia shore and swept 
over the bridge into the great Capital City itself. 

A ride of entrancing loveliness followed, for along 
the famous Speedway, the lavish wealth of exotic 
cherry-blossoms makes the drive at this particular 
season of the year a glowing, dazzling sweep straight 
into the heart of fairyland. 

Kid’s appreciation of this beauty and the light in 
his eyes as they rested on the great monument shin¬ 
ing in the distance sent a warm glow of happiness over 
Mrs. Wayne’s heart. 

Neglected, tossed about amid all sorts of influences, 
good, bad or indifferent, this little son of hers had kept 
his birth-right, a pure, ardent, beauty-loving soul. 

The other children pointed out to him eagerly all the 
famous buildings as they passed and Kid drank in the 
explanations and stories thirstily. 

“Here we are! Hurrah!” shouted jubilant Jack at 
last and only for his Mother’s watchful love he might 
have terminated the ride with disaster, since his usual 
recklessness made him attempt to leap over the side 
of the car long before Tom had steered it smoothly up 
to the entrance of Grandy-dad’s home. 

On the threshold stood Sir Gilbert himself with hos¬ 
pitable hands extended. He was slightly paler and 
thinner than before his illness but showed no other 
signs of unpleasant results from the accident. 

Raven and Jacqueline, Lark and Kid were all re¬ 
ceived with a real grand-fatherly welcome. That a 
deeper note of love sounded in his salutation to Mrs. 
Wayne and little Jack no one resented for it seemed 
to be an accepted fact that these two would ever be 
especially dear to his heart. As he had only preceded 


192 


JACK 


his guests by a few hours, the greetings were not of 
necessity lengthy and soon all the new-comers had en¬ 
tered the great wainscoted hall and were smiling into 
other welcome faces gathered there. 

Kid was instantly engulfed in the embrace of Cous¬ 
in Prudence who was duly on hand to celebrate this 
glad reunion of a long scattered family. Her former 
prejudice against Sir Gilbert seemed to have vanished 
entirely. She assured Kid fervently that she knew 
from the moment she first saw him that he was a true 
descendant of the Waynes. 

“How about Jack, Cousin Prudy?” Hilary Wayne re¬ 
minded her roguishly, “He's a true descendant, too, but 
you refused to admit his claim after you saw Kid.” 

“Others were puzzled as well as I,” retorted Miss 
Prudence pointedly. “Come here, young Jack,” she 
went on, smiling at our hero, “I am pleased to see you 
too, little boy, but your brother is more like my im¬ 
mediate family and hence I do perhaps lean somewhat 
towards favoritism in his regard.” 

Jack wiggled uncomfortably. His former meeting 
with this awesome lady was still in his memory. He 
was saved from the embarrassment of stumbling awk¬ 
wardly forward in obedience to her call, by an inter¬ 
ruption on the part of Kid— 

“Oh-oh! Why there's my old lady!” the lad who had 
so recently been a waif exclaimed in accents of almost 
unbelievable joy. From the encircling arms of Miss 
Prudence he was gazing happily at a dainty little lady 
who was advancing down the staircase on the stalwart 
arm of pleasant-faced Mr. Bob. 

You may be sure every one shared Kid's pleasure in 
meeting this beloved benefactress of his friendless days. 

“You told me maybe I'd see her sooner than I 
thought, didn’t you, Mother?” laughed Kid, looking up 
into Mrs. Wayne's face gratefully. “And you had it 


AT GRANDY-DAD’S 


193 


planned all the time for me, didn't you? Oh, thank 
you. Thank you so much.” 

“You are quite welcome, sonney,” his mother an¬ 
swered gaily. “I wanted to meet her, too, you see, and 
thank her for her great kindness to my boy.” 

“Let's adjourn to the garden, I vote,” called out 
young Mr. Treadwell’s cheerful voice. He had Lark 
and Raven clinging to his arms and proceeded to lead 
the way, when a shout from Jack caused all to look 
around. 

“I've found it. Come see. I've found the catch to 
the Secret Slide.” 


CHAPTER XX 


OPENING THE SECRET SLIDE 

You may be sure all feet moved swiftly in pursuit 
of Jack. He had slipped away amid the general chat¬ 
ter, free to explore the mystery of the old staircase at 
last. 

Jacqueline was the first to reach his side. She re¬ 
membered perfectly the spot where Jack and she had 
found Jack’s chum imprisoned that night so many 
weeks ago. The sight of his sister seemed to recall 
to Jack abruptly someone else.— 

“Where’s Rob?” he asked Sir Gilbert anxiously. 
“Doesn’t he come over any more? I promised not to 
open the slide unless he was here, too.” 

“Oh, yes, so you did,” agreed Jacqueline. “Rob was 
the cross little boy whose foot was caught. Does he 
live near here? Could we get him? Where is he?” 

“I’m here,” a gruff boyish voice announced from the 
shadows of the old staircase, somewhere above Jack’s 
head. “Hello, Jack!” 

Jack gave a jubilant yell. He rose from examina¬ 
tion of his cherished “find” and went scrambling up in 
the direction of Rob’s voice. 

“Hi, you Rob! How are you, huh? My, but I’m 
glad to see you!” 

“Stop! Lookout! You don’t see me at all and—and 
you’re stepping on Mr. Wickets. I’ve been trying to 
get him down to meet you,” protested Rob in the same 
surly way that seeemed so familiar to Jacqueline. 

“Mr. Wickets ?” cried Raven, “Oh, that’s the old dog 
Jack was always talking about. Please, please coax 
him down, Jack. I want to see him.” 

194 


OPENING THE SECRET SLIDE 


195 


“You bet I want to see him, too,” urged Lark cor¬ 
dially. 

Raven’s black head and Jacqueline’s brown one were 
now bumping against Lark’s golden one and Kid’s too, 
in an effort to peer up the staircase for a peep at Rob 
and Wickets. 

The grown-ups at this point vanished to the garden, 
feeling that the young folks had plenty to interest 
them for sometime to come. 

Wickets had, meanwhile, recognized Jack, and the 
adoring whine of devotion on the part of this very 
old dog was almost pathetic. Rob and Jack finally 
carried him down in their arms to be introduced to the 
other children and made much of in the way that such 
an ancient both loves and deserves. 

Lark and Raven liked shock-headed Rob at once, 
in spite of his gruff, boyish ways. Jack had often 
talked of this pal of his in his own loyal fashion and 
Rob soon felt as much at home with Jack’s cousins 
as he did with Jack himself. Friendly Jacqueline set 
him at ease with her instantly, by recalling merrily 
the first night they had discovered him caught in the 
secret slide and the solemn promise they had all made 
each other about the opening of the treasure-trove. 

Kid’s quiet smile and easy way of greeting strangers 
impressed Rob strongly in his favor, too, so all in all, 
the introductions were a success. 

Wickets subsided to enjoy one of his noisy slumbers 
right on top of Jack’s feet and this made everyone 
laugh. 

'‘Wickets isn’t going to let you get away this time 
without his knowing it,” vouchsafed Rob with a grin. 
“Say Jack, you sure did stay away a long while. Glad 
you’re back,” he continued, fondness for his chum driv¬ 
ing all surliness out of his tone now. 

“You must come with him next time,” urged Lark, 


196 


JACK 


true little Southerner that he was. 'We’d love to have 
you visit us at Jasmine Knoll, wouldn’t we, Raven?” 

"Yes, of course,” agreed Raven tersely, "but now— 
please—please SOMEBODY open this secret slide. I 
can’t wait for another minute. Where is it anyway?” 

"You’re sitting on it,” teased Jack and when Raven 
bounded off the step on which she had been seated— 
he pressed something with a tiny clicking sound and lo! 
—like folding doors slipping backward, the two parts 
of the old oak step slid apart and revealed a narrow 
vault-like receptacle, in which one could hide away 
many interesting treasures. At present this space was 
comfortably filled with delightful looking packages. 
Jack peered within. 

"Wheel This is like Christmas. Finding presents 
under the tree and all. Say, these things have our 
names on them. See, this says—Raven—plain as day.” 

He held up a long, narrow box tied with red ribbon 
and really labeled as he had announced, Raven reached 
out eager hands. 

"For me ?” she cried. "Why, how did it get there ?” 

"Surprises from Grandy-dad for us all I guess,” 
laughed Jack. "Here’s yours, Lark. It feels jolly. 
Catch hold of it—KidT One for you, too.” 

"For me?” exclaimed astonished Kid, echoing Ra¬ 
ven’s cry. 

"Oh, goody! goody!” laughed Jacqueline. "That 
means you, Kid, of course. Grandfather doesn’t like to 
have you called Kid, see! John I. Isn’t that a splen¬ 
did way to fix it ? John I. and John II.! John II., how 
do you like your new name?” she demanded of Jack. 

"Uh, uh.” John II. shook his head in protest. "I’m 
Jack forever and ever. Like it. I’m used to it. Here’s 
your prize, Jacqueline.” 

"Oh, thank you! How jolly!” she cried. "See mine, 


OPENING THE SECRET SLIDE 


197 


Raven. Does it look like yours? No? Well, let’s 
guess what’s in them.” 

“Open them and find out,” suggested Rob. 

“Not yet,” volunteered Jack. “Wait until I fish ’em 
all out. There are two or three more here. One for 
you, Rob.” 

He tossed it toward his pal but the lad was too sur¬ 
prised to make any attempt at catching it. Lark 
performed that office for him and handed it to him 
with a cheery smile. 

“We’re all in luck, aren’t we?” he chuckled. 

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” laughed Jack, sitting back and hold¬ 
ing a small, lumpy bundle in view. “For Mr. Wickets! 
Isn’t that the funniest ever? Here, Wick. Grandy- 
dad didn’t forget you either. Bet you got cookies or 
chocolate drops. Wickets loves sweets, you know.” 

Mr. Wickets was roused from his nap to sniff at his 
treat and immediately showed the proper interest for 
he took it between his paws and tried to tear the paper 
away with his few remaining teeth. When he dis¬ 
covered the chocolate drops which Jack had predicted, 
he gave a faint wheeze of delight and tried to bolt the 
entire contents of the bag at one gulp. 

Just then Jack discovered his own package and de¬ 
clared that the secret slide was empty now and that he 
was ready if the rest were. 

Such snapping of strings and such tearing of paper 
as followed. 

Lark had two books, “Penrod” and “Tom Sawyer.” 

Grandy-dad certainly seemed well acquainted with 
Lark’s preference in gifts for one who had seen so lit¬ 
tle of the boy. 

Raven found a dainty neckchain of coral beads fast¬ 
ened by a golden clasp on which her monogram was 
engraved. 


198 


JACK 


Jacqueline received one similar in design but with 
beads of turqoise blue. 

Kid sat speechless examining a splendid knife. 
Marked clearly on its silver crest shone out the name 
John Wayne. 

Rob's attention was riveted on the expensive me¬ 
chanical toy his box contained. This was something he 
had been secretly longing for, since seeing one of Jack's 
the past Christmas. “Bet Mr. Bob helped Sir Gilbert 
pick this out," he exclaimed at last. Mr. Bob was Rob's 
pal, too, as well as Jack's you see. 

“Look at mine! Look!" shouted Jack with so high a 
note of excitement in his voice that all the others 
jumped to their feet alert and eager. “This," said Jack, 
exhibiting a seal-ring set with the Treadwell coat of 
arms, “and this, too," and he held aloft a small brass 
key. Then read aloud from the card attached: 

“I fit the lock of the Secret Panel." 

“Wheel—isn't this jim-dandy fun though?" laughed 
Jack, waving the key above his head. “A secret panel 
as well as a secret slide! Come help me find it." 

And oh, such excitement as ensued! Up and down 
that old staircase tramped and scrambled and flew 
childish feet. Tap-Tap-Tap! Knuckles rapped the 
wainscoting for hollow sounds therein. But all in vain. 
The secret panel was securely concealed in very truth. 

The tide of fun ran high indeed when their elders, 
returning from a stroll in Sir Gilbert's fine, old, brick- 
walled garden, entered heart and soul into the merry 
search. Sir Gilbert smiled down into Jack's eager face 
upturned to his and announced: 

“The secret panel might not of necessity be on that 
old staircase." But not another clew would he give, 
although besieged with questions. 

At last the hunt centered itself in the grand old 
entrance hall. 


OPENING THE SECRET SLIDE 


199 


Sir Gilbert seated in one of the huge, lounging chairs, 
watched and teased and praised the respective search¬ 
ers. Miss Prudence caused a general uproar of mirth 
when she was discovered examining each panel min¬ 
utely through her impressive-looking lorgnette. 

“Better rest awhile, 1 ” advised Sir Gilbert, genially. 
“Join forces and march to the garden. Agnes, my 
dear, will you honor me by helping me lead the way?” 
He rose and extended his arm to his daughter quite 
ceremoniously. 

“I—I—think Fve found it, Sir,” gasped Kid in 
startled accents just at this moment. 

“Bless my heart! Have you, my boy ? Let me see,” 
said Sir Gilbert, turning back at Kid’s announcement. 

“Show us!” 

“Where?” 

“Good for you, Kid!” 

“Great work!” came various demands and plaudits. 

“You are right, John I,” commended Sir Gilbert 
kindly, as Kid pointed out a panel situated about two 
lengths left of the mammoth fireplace. With some 
difficulty the disguised lock was next discovered. Then 
Jack’s key was inserted and the panel which was also 
a door flew back and revealed a winding, narrow flight 
of stairs. 

“What led you to think that was the particular 
panel, my boy?” asked Sir Gilbert of Kid with apprecia¬ 
tion in his voice for the lad’s keen and quick discovery 
of the secret. 

“Just noticed, sir, as how that panel seemed more 
alive than the rest,” explained Kid bashfully. 

“More alive?” queried his Grandfather. 

Kid blushed and stammered. His quaintness of 
speech often embarrassed him and he strove hard to 
overcome it. 


200 


JACK 


“I—I—mean, newer, sir. Kind of polished like. 
The others, you see, are darker and more, more dull 
someway, sir.” 

“Of course, he's my son, Sir Gilbert,” joked Hilary 
Wayne's voice behind them. “You can recognize my 
brilliancy in him already, eh? But oh, I say, what's 
this?” he added catching a glimpse into the realm 
beyond the famous panel. “Forward! March! John I. 
You are missing the fun,” and pushing Kid gently 
before them he and Sir Gilbert followed the rest 
through the narrow doorway. 

At the foot of the short, winding staircase, was a 
large room fitted up with elaborate care and skill as a 
very perfectly appointed gymnasium. Everything a lad 
could desire for indoor exercise and fun was there. 

“Hurrah! Hurrah!” Jack and Lark shouted in 
chorus. 

“Jiminy!” gasped amazed Rob. 

“Why, this is simply perfect, Father,” exclaimed 
young Mr. Treadwell, turning to congratulate Sir Gil¬ 
bert on this stupendous effort made to give the chil¬ 
dren pleasure. 

“You really like it?” asked Sir Gilbert earnestly. 
“Bob helped me with valuable suggestions when I was 
ordering the work done, but he and I may have over¬ 
looked something. Go down, you two big boys,” nod¬ 
ding at his son and Mr. Wayne. “Look the ground over 
and see if there is anything else needed.” 

With every bit as much animation as Jack, Lark and 
Bob, they went as directed, but this sudden boyish en¬ 
thusiasm did not cause Mr. Wayne to forget his boy 
Kid, who with blue eyes bright with interest was watch¬ 
ing the others in his happy, quiet way. 

“Come, John I. You too,” laughed his father. “Fol¬ 
low me, son, and I'll show you how to mount those ropes 
yonder faster than even our nimble Jackie.” 


OPENING THE SECRET SLIDE 


201 


Kid looked up at his young brother swinging airily 
now on one of the ropes indicated, and smiled. What 
fun it was going to be climbing like a cat up—up—up, 
just for sport and not as he had been obliged to do it 
in the past for self-preservation. 

“Grandy-dad!” called Jack from the dizzy height he 
had attained, “this Gym’s the very splendidest thing I 
ever had happen to me. My! but you were good to 
do it!” 

“I’ll say you were,” sang out Lark as he practiced 
balancing himself from ring to ring on another acro¬ 
batic device. 


CHAPTER XXI 


GOOD-BYE 

“And oh, Raven! Raven! he didn't forget even us," 
exclaimed Jacqueline happily. “See the baskets and the 
jolly ball. Do you play? Oh, how I hope you do. Come 
let's have a test now." 

“Guess I do play," affirmed Raven confidentially, “and 
you'll have to work hard to beat me, too." 

Unexpectedly, she paused on her way to the short 
flight of stairs, climbed it and went to Sir Gilbert's 
side. With swift impulsiveness she caught his arm and 
squeezed it as she might have done her beloved Daddy's. 

“Grandfather," she said, and the words seemed to 
tumble out and over one another in her eagerness, 
“You are ever so nice and I love you. Honest I do," 
and then she darted off with the swiftness of a shy lit¬ 
tle rabbit. 

That brusque tribute of Raven's so sincere and so 
unexpected, touched Sir Gilbert to the heart. He felt 
tears rising in spite of his might effort to repress them, 
so he stole quietly away to the Library. 

Mrs. Wayne following him there, and sitting down on 
a hassock near his chair, took his hand into both her 
tender ones. 

“Father," she said gaily, “I was cheated out of the 
treat of sitting at your feet when I was small and hear¬ 
ing you tell stories. May I do it now ? Please tell me 
something about my Mother. I long to know just how 
lovely she was, the little Mother I never saw." 

Sir Gilbert patted her head and then her hands with 
his free one and at last drew out of his pocket a small, 
202 


GOOD-BYE 


203 


old-fashioned miniature. As he extended it to his 
daughter she gave a quick, little cry: 

“Why, Father! Little Jack looks like this picture! 
He has the same brown eyes, the same merry smile.” 

“Yes,” Sir Gilbert replied gently. 

“I am so glad,” she exclaimed. “Now I know why 
you were so drawn to Jack. He reminded you of some¬ 
one dear to you. Both you and I were right, weren't 
we, Father? Our hearts instinctively went out to him 
from the first moment we saw him.” 

“You resemble your Mother, too, dear, but your lit¬ 
tle Jack has hair and eyes and complexion exactly like 
hers. Naturally, time deepened the tone of her hair 
to a rich bronze and her skin was creamy white with 
soft wild-rose coloring, but Jack when he is older will 
be as nearly her counterpart as a sturdy youth can be 
the counterpart of a radiantly beautiful woman.” 

“Grandy-dad! Grandy-dad!” rose a shout from the 
hall-way. 

“Grandfather! Grandfather!” the chorus con¬ 
tinued.— 

“I found him!” declared Jack, darting into the 
room.—“Oh,” he blurted out—“ 'Scuze me, please!” 

“Come, darling,” called Mrs. Wayne. “You are wel¬ 
come. All of you,” she added, nodding at the rest of 
the children. 

“Yes,” explained Sir Gilbert, drawing Jack into the 
shelter of his arm and smiling at the rest, “all you 
little folks are welcome now and always in this room 
or any room of the castle, as Raven calls it; but none 
must mind if Jack remains Prince of the realm and of 
my heart. I am too old now to learn new ways you 
see, but nevertheless, I have a tender spot in that same 
old heart for you all.” 

The children crowded around him eagerly, Raven and 
Jacqueline kneeling down beside Mrs. Wayne. 


204 


JACK 


“Grandy-dad,” said Jack—“We all want to thank 
you, thank you heaps for that jolly Gym and the Secret 
Panel and the Secret Slide.” 

“They were all meant to be surprises for you, Jack,” 
explained Sir Gilbert. “I knew it was lonely for a 
small boy to live with an old man in this big house, so 
I tried now and then, to plan things of special interest 
for you. Since I became so well acquainted with the 
rest of my grandchildren I enjoyed arranging their 
share in the surprise, too. Next winter when you all 
start into school here in Washington, that Gymnasium 
is going to be a wonderful help and pleasure to you all, 
I hope.” 

“Oh, hurrah! Are we going to live here next winter 
with you and Jack, Grandfather?” asked Lark. 

“That is my wish,” agreed the old gentleman. 

“But we can't Kid and I,” lamented Jacqueline. “We 
have to live at our own home in New England.” 

“Not this coming winter, darling,” consoled Mrs. 
Wayne. “Daddy and I are going to close the New Eng¬ 
land home and live here with my father. He and I 
have been parted too many years to risk separation 
again, while he lives.” (Sir Gilbert's clasp on her 
hands tightened in joyful surprise.) “But,” she con¬ 
tinued gaily, “this bevy of cousins is going to have a 
New England summer. Instead of spending all the 
holidays at Jasmine Knoll, the whole united family is 
coming home with us for the months of July and Au¬ 
gust. A New England summer is one of the nicest 
things in the world, especially when spent in an old 
house by the sea.” 

“Will you let Rob come too, Mother?” questioned 
Jack with loyal eyes on Rob standing bashfully in the 
background. 

“Indeed I will,” Mrs. Wayne replied heartily, smil¬ 
ing warmly at her little son's pal. “Rob is always in¬ 
cluded in any fun we plan. Yes, and Mr. Wickets, too,” 


GOOD-BYE 


205 


she added, as at this moment the old spaniel tottered 
into the room and made straight for Jack's feet. 

While the children were still laughing over this 
climax, Gilbert Treadwell put his head in at the door. 

“Dinner is served and I judge by the face of your 
housekeeper, Father, that unless we honor her humor, 
we will not have the chance to partake of her bounty 
later. Forward all hands to the dining-room, say I. 
Come, Raven honey, escort hungry Daddy to the feast. 
He is famishing and well nigh fainting." 

A regular banquet awaited them in the stately old 
dining-room. Sir Gilbert sat at the head of the table 
and Mr. Bob's gracious little Mother, by general vote, 
took the place opposite him. Mr. and Mrs. Wayne sat 
at Sir Gilbert's right, Mr. Treadwell, Cousin Prudence 
and Mr. Bob at his left. Kid sat next to his father, 
then Jacqueline, then Jack. On the opposite side were 
Lark, Raven and Rob. Mr. Wickets by special per¬ 
mission was allowed to attend the feast also and im¬ 
mediately curled up for a nap. 

Once during the meal there was a dramatic interrup¬ 
tion. Through the window leading into the conserv¬ 
atory, Jack suddenly spied a familiar figure moving 
in and out among the plants. He started to his feet 
and without excuse or explanation darted through the 
glass door which opened into the conservatory from the 
dining-room: 

“Annette! Annette!" they heard him call and gazing 
after him they saw a slender, refined little French 
lady throw up her hands filled with blossoms, saw her 
sad face light up with swift joy and tender affection, 
saw her lips move, as the little lad raced up to her tem¬ 
pestuously. Then she cried out: 

“Ah! It is little Monsieur Jean who has returned 
to his Nurse! Thanks be to the Good God. I have 
missed you sorely, mon enfant. I have felt so alone, 
so sad. Ah, Adorable One, I embrace you." 


206 


JACK 


“I see why you nick-named him Adorable,” said Mr. 
Wayne smiling across the table at Mr. Bob. 

And now most unwillingly I must let the curtain 
fall, dear little readers, I must turn out the foot¬ 
lights and silence the orchestra. 'Our playlet is ended 
for the present, but your regret you may be sure is no 
more poignant than that of cheery Lark, gentle Kid, 
gruff Rob, friendly Jacqueline, eccentric Raven, and 
Jolly Jack. They are as loath to leave you as you are 
to have them go and I want you to realize that their 
voices unite in a silvery chime to make this good-bye 
which we must say ring true to your ears with the 
sweetness of everlasting good-fellowship. 


THE END 


“WILLIE FRANK OF STEDLEY” 
another enjoyable book by the same author 


Printed by John W. Winterich 






V. 








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